“Where silver webs of spiders weaveand blighted lovers take their leave;where curses lay the spirits lowand mortal footsteps fear to go.Where death holds life in grim embraceits line's etched on the sinner's face;where e'er the march of time is flauntedVoices cry- "this place is haunted.”

“A savage place! as holy and enchanted As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted By woman wailing for her demon-lover!”

“Vibrations caused by powerful turbines stirred Kathy from a dream centered around a funeral. Her eyes flicked open, face dry, and she had no idea where she was. In her dream, she saw crystalline silver spiders again, weaving their way through the graveyard, leaving trails of silver webs over corpses, binding them for some unknown purpose in the cold dark earth.”

“I don't want to stay in the bad place, where no one believes in silver linings or love or happy endings.”

“But perhaps it can make the pause between death's footsteps sound and look and feel beautiful, can make the space of waiting a place where you can linger without as much fear. For we are all walking each other to our deaths, and the journey there between footsteps makes up our lives.”

“...could a face have been fashioned to fit the attitude of his consciousness where it lay suspended between life and death that face would have worn a snarl.”