Who But The Mad Would Choose To

Writers Are Also Sort Of Like Vultures, But With Fewer Ethics.

Did They Find Something Wanting In You, Gemma, At The Party? You Didn’t Speak Too Freely Or Behave…strangely?” I Grew Claws And Bayed At The Moon. I Confessed That I Eat The Hearts Of Small Children. I Told Them I Like The French.

Who But The Mad Would Choose To Keep On Living? In The End, Aren't We All Just A Little Crazy?

War." Gorgon Spits The Word. "that Is What They Call It To Give The Illusion Of Honor And Law. It Is Chaos. Madness And Blood And The Hunger To Win. It Has Always Been Thus And Shall Always Be So.

It Is A Giggle Full Of High Spirits And Merry Mischief, Proof That We Never Lose Our Girlish Selves, No Matter What Sort Of Women We Become.