Their laughter was like the stridulation of the ghosts of grasshoppers.
In the grave the chambers of souls are like the womb of a woman: For like as a woman that travails make haste to escape the necessity of the travail: even so do these places haste to deliver those things that are committed unto them.
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In the grave the chambers of souls are like the womb of a woman: For like as a woman that travails make haste to escape the necessity of the travail: even so do these places haste to deliver those things that are committed unto them.
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So, I poisoned his coffee this morning and watched him drink it.
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There is no light at the end of the tunnel for us. We are who we are.