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“I just sit where I'm put, composed of stone and wishful thinking: That the deity that kills for pleasure will also heal, That in the midst of your nightmare, the final one, a kind lion will pick your soul up gently by the nape of the neck, And caress you into darkness and paradise.” — Louise Penny
I just sit where I'm put, composed
of stone and wishful thinking:
That the deity that kills for pleasure will also heal,
That in the midst of your nightmare,
the final one, a kind lion will pick your soul up gently
by the nape of the neck,
And caress you into darkness and paradise.