I always knew this story would break my heart

I remember the stink of corruption. It had a kind of sweetness to it, a sweetness that'd make you want to hurl.

A smile leaked from behind the boy’s somber face, and then the thing withered like a little flower growing someplace infirm.

Sad and lonely cannot be the same, Not if im sad in you're little crowd.

They say geniuses mostly have great mothers. They mostly have sad fates.

It is far more painful to awake from a beautiful slumber and – in that brief period when the continuity of life is still lost to you – to reach across the bed for a hand that is not there.