Per’s Reviews > Delirium's Mistress > Status Update

Life is a series of blows, in any case […] birth and death being the greatest of these, but between them, many of lesser sort. And is it possible to return or mend every smack of fate and life? Sit down beneath the storm, for if you shout at it, it will not hear you.

Love is love. She cannot be seen because she is everything. We fight her. We turn her away. But we can no more do it than throw off our own life. In the end, love alone remains.

Nothing ever changed there, or very little. The ground of heaven was sky, and the sky of heaven was sky, and time, like the sky, hung everywhere and did not move and did not stay still. Tomorrow might be yesterday, and next year three mortal centuries ago.

For if any do see her walk the world, love is a hag, worse than plague or famine, or even Death with his ghostly show. Love in her robe of rags with her heart torn out and sewn on her breast, love with her eyes wept out and only the blind sockets staring. Love is a bitch, but she suffers, and so she knows best how to make all things suffer that she kisses with her sickness.

I remember you. You were the pleasure of dawn and first light. But the day has advanced.