"Moths. They're like depressed butterflies. Ridiculous things, don't you think? Winged tragedies, really."
The air is full of tragedies this evening, and I don't even dare to move. I'm all long-limbed and gawky; you've said it before and you will say it again. They break very easily, silly little things. If you touch them, even if you touch them only once
"Just look at them. Why is it that they're so attracted to light?"
They put up beautiful paper lanterns every year in the shapes and colors of children's dreams. I have no eyes for children's dreams. You told me to start acting my age and I will. No more lollipops and bedtime stori