A book is to me like a hat or coat - a very uncomfortable thing until the newness has been worn off.
Charles B. Fairbanks
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Love, Salvation, the Fear of Death
Well I'm staring straight into the face of hell
You're so close and you can't even tell
I'm so wrapped up inside
Because I don't have much to love
Horrified I feel from pits unseen
Falling off my pedestal of plentiful deeds
As it crumbles down on top of me
I contemplate my lack of love
Come and save my soul
Before it's not too late
I'm not afraid to admit
How much I hate myself
All these gongs and cymbals ring inside my head