The domed head rose above the water, white as a spill of milk. It had taken the hook. It swirled, and all they could see then was the grinding and breaking of water, the teeth in the grin and grotto of its impossible mouth.
Never, never may the fruit be plucked from the bough and gathered into barrels. He that would eat of love must eat it where it hangs.
I’ll tell you that I’m a professional grudge-holder and will NEVER get bored with telling people what a snake and a sneak you are. You better hope that company is everything you need, because around here your name will be Mud.
There's a kind of a sort of cost. There's a couple of things get… lost. There are bridges you cross you didn't know you crossed until you've crossed!
No live organism can continue for long to exist sanely under conditions of absolute reality; even larks and katydids are supposed, by some, to dream.
And not in that dry science way he always used to use, saying things like, “I’m not calling for personal reasons, I need to tell your radio audience about a strange hole that might appear in their wall.” Oh yeah, I forgot – there’s a strange hole that might appear in your wall.
They stare. They tire. They feel refused, feel overwhelmed by subtle treasons! Nobody here will take the part of jester.
But I want to be where all the stupid things I say sound so romantic and true.
But whatever this is – it needs to be said, right? Getting rid of the cobwebs of “you’ve changed” and the “I wasn’t there for it” and the “we used to talk about everything.”
Take me alive said Adrestus
I’ll give you everything gold bronze iron
My father is a rich man take me alive
But Agamemnon heard him
And that was the earth’s moment
That was the death of Adrestus
