"Because the soul is like a flower that folds its petals when dark comes, and breathes not its fragrance into the phantoms of the night."

Next Quote

Miss Mary Mack, Mack, Mack, all dressed in black, black, black. She has a knife, knife, knife, stuck in her back, back, back. She cannot breathe, breathe, breathe. She cannot cry, cry, cry. Thats why she begs, begs, begs. She begs to die, die ,die...

— Laurie Faria Stolarz