Get Thee Behind Me, Tragedy.

Dickens Is A Very Underrated Writer At The Moment. Everyone In His Time Admired Him But I Think Right Now He's Not Spoken Of Enough.

I Was Obsessed With Religious Questions, The Basics: Why Are We Here? Why Is The World So Beautiful?

It Was As If This Night Were Only One Of Thousands Of Nights, World Without End, Night Curving Into Night To Make A Great Arching Line Of Which I Couldn’t See The End, A Night In Which I Roamed Alone Under Cold, Mindless Stars.

I Kept Glancing At Him And Away From Him, As If His Green Eyes Were Hurting Me. In Modern Parlance He Was A Laser Beam. Deadly And Delicate He Seemed. His Victims Had Always Loved Him. And I Had Always Loved Him, Hadn't I, No Matter What Happened, And How Strong Could Love Grow If You Had Eternity To Nourish It, And It Took Only These Few Moments In Time To Renew Its Momentum, Its Heat? -lestat

For Me, Places Have A Tremendous Impact. I Fall In Love With Places. All Of Life Seems Different In Different Places.