Omnia Mutantur...
Michael CoxI had retained little of what is generally called religion, except for a visceral conviction that our lives are controlled by some universal mechanism that is greater than ourselves. Perhaps that was what others called God. Perhaps not.
Michael CoxTags: religion
The summer passed quietly. I busied myself as best I could, reading a good deal.
Michael CoxAfter killing the red-haired man, I took myself off to Quinn’s for an oyster supper.
Michael CoxTags: murder first-lines fiction gothic opening-sentences
For Death is the meaning of night;
The eternal shadow
Into which all lives must fall,
All hopes expire.
Tags: life death despair night hopelessness
After Killing the red-haired
man, I took myself off to
Quinn’s for an oyster supper…
Tags: the-meaning-of-night
The boundaries of this world are forever shifting – from day to night, joy to sorrow, love to hate, and from life itself to death; and who can say at what moment we may suddenly cross over the border, from one state of existence to another, like heat applied to some flammable substance? I have been given my own ever-changing margins, across which I move, continually and hungrily, like a migrating animal. Now civilized, now untamed; now responsive to decency and human concern, now viciously attuned to the darkest of desires.
Michael CoxTags: change character definition characteristics boundaries margins alteration
It is trite to speak of a broken heart. Hearts are not broken; they continue to beat, the blood still courses, even in the bitter after-days of betrayal. but something is broken when pain beyond words is suffered; some connection that formerly existed with light and hope and bright mornings is severed, and can never be restored.
Michael CoxBut who ever heeds the voice of reason when love whispers, softly persuasive, in the other ear?
Michael CoxTrust, but be careful in whom.
Michael CoxPage 1 of 1.
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