At The Best Of Times, Spring Hurts

Do Not Think I Do Not Realise What I Am Doing. I Am Making A Composition Using The Following Elements: The Winter Beach; The Winter Moon; The Ocean; The Women; The Pine Trees; The Riders; The Driftwood; The Shells; The Shapes Of Darkness And The Shapes Of Water; And The Refuse. These Are All Inimical To My Loneliness Because Of Their Indifference To It. Out Of These Pieces Of Inimical Indifference, I Intend To Represent The Desolate Smile Of Winter Which, As You Must Have Gathered, Is The Smile I Wear.

She Stands And Moves Within The Invisible Pentacle Of Her Own Virginity. She Is An Unbroken Egg: She Is A Sealed Vessel; She Has Inside Her A Magic Space The Entrance To Which Is Shut Tight With A Plug Of Membrane; She Is A Closed System; She Does Not Know How To Shiver.

The Wolf Is Carnivore Incarnate And He's As Cunning As He Is Ferocious; Once He's Had A Taste Of Flesh Then Nothing Else Will Do.

Drosselmeier Had Unwittingly Exposed Himself To An Overdose Of Reality, And It Had Destroyed His Reason.

Aeneas Carried His Aged Father On His Back From The Ruins Of Troy And So Do We All, Whether We Like It Or Not, Perhaps Even If We Have Never Known Them.