The Waves Of Pain That Had Only

Wanderer: You Don't Really Feel That Way About Me You Know. It's This Body... She's Pretty Isn't She? Ian: She Is. Melanie Is A Very Pretty Girl. Even Beautiful. But Pretty As She Is, She Is A Stranger To Me. She's Not The One I... Care About. Wanderer: It's This Body. Ian: That's Not True At All. It's Not The Face, But The Expressions On It. It's Not The Voice, But What They Say. It's Not How You Look Like In That Body, It's What You Do With It. You Are Beautiful.

Time Passes. Even When It Seems Impossible. Even When Each Tick Of The Second Hand Aches Like The Pulse Of Blood Behind A Bruise. It Passes Unevenly, In Strange Lurches And Dragging Lulls, But Pass It Does. Even For Me.

Time Means Little; I Never Notice Its Passing.

No Two Writers Go About Things In Exactly The Same Way (intro)

I Like The Night. Without The Dark, We'd Never See The Stars.