I have tasted words, I have seen them. Never had her hands reached out in darkness and felt the texture of pure marble, never had her forehead bent forward and, as against a stone altar,...

run run run Hermione. You have in your hands a message and a token…run and run and run and run Hermione. You know running and running and running that the messenger will take (lampadephoros) your...

That odd infallible sliding-like-crystal air on water that means day’s left dawn for morning.

The thing she realised in that moment, that fraction of waiting, was lost. Nothing could bring the thing back, no words could make the thing solid and visible and therefore to be coped with. Solid...

I will be caught finally, I will be broken. Not broken, incarcerated. Her will be incarcerated in Her.

…if you do not even understand what words say,how can you expect to pass judgementon what words conceal?

Let us search the old highways.

She knew herself the heart of a king buried in a sepulchre (in the land of his love) while the body of the king is elsewhere. My heart lies buried in there like Coeur de...

She didn’t know that all her life would be spent gambling with the stark rigidity of words, words that were coin: save, spend and all the time George with his own counter had found her...