I Long For Solitude And

Oh Words, What Crimes Are Committed In Your Name? ~jack Or The Submission

I Long For Solitude And Yet I Cannot Stand It.

Childhood Is The World Of Miracle And Wonder; As If Creation Rose, Bathed In The Light, Out Of The Darkness, Utterly New And Fresh And Astonishing. The End Of Childhood Is When Things Cease To Astonish Us.

We Are Made To Be Immortal, And Yet We Die. It's Horrible, It Can't Be Taken Seriously

It Isn't What People Think That Is Important, But The Reason They Think What They Think.