And if beauty is terror
...then what is desire?
To live.
To live forever.
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And if beauty is terror
...then what is desire?
To live.
To live forever.
Her voice in Greek was harsh and low and lovely.
Thus he died, and all the life struggled out of him;
and as he died he spattered me with dark red
and violent-driven rain of bitter-savored blood
to make glad, as gardens stand among the showers
of God in glory at the birthtime of the buds.