“We each die countless little deaths on our way to the last. We die out of shame as humiliation. We perish from despair. And, of course, we die for love.”
More from Clive Barker
“Did I say that she was beautiful? I was wrong. Beauty is too tame a notion; it evokes only…”
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“We’re too much ourselves. Afraid of letting go of what we are, in case we are nothing, and…”
“Did I say that she was beautiful? I was wrong. Beauty is too tame a notion; it evokes only…”