There are times when the air that floats between mortals becomes, in its stillness and silence, as cruel as the edge of a scythe.


Titus alone (ed. 1967)


There are times when the air that floats between mortals becomes, in its stillness and silence, as cruel as the edge of a scythe.

There are times when the air that floats between mortals becomes, in its stillness and silence, as cruel as the edge of a scythe.

There are times when the air that floats between mortals becomes, in its stillness and silence, as cruel as the edge of a scythe.

There are times when the air that floats between mortals becomes, in its stillness and silence, as cruel as the edge of a scythe.