Like moons make swell and wane the nescient seas, so too the sky-strewn gods ordain the tidal fates of mortal days. And yet - a notion born in lonely hours - come ebb, come flow, come all that is beyond the breadth of our dominion: be a moon unto yourself. Even the waves of fate can break upon the shores of will.

But loneliness that deep gets into the marrow. Now that I’m here - among friends - I can feel it burning out of me. Little by little, step by step.

Peace. Enjoy it while it lasts.

Enjoy myself? There's a worm in my brain, I'm surrounded by idiots, and all I've got to drink is wine that tastes like vinegar.

I don't mean to judge a book by its cover, but that man is all cover and no pages.