Michael Cox

“But who ever heeds the voice of reason when love whispers, softly persuasive, in the other ear?”

“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.”

“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.”

“After killing the red-haired man, I took myself off to Quinn’s for an oyster supper.”

“The summer passed quietly. I busied myself as best I could, reading a good deal.”

“After Killing the red-hairedman, I took myself off toQuinn’s for an oyster supper…”

“I 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.”

“Omnia Mutantur...”