Fear not the waking world, my mortal, Fear not the flat, synthetic blood, Nor the heart in the ribbing metal. Fear not the tread, the seeded milling, The trigger and scythe, the bridal blade, Nor the flint in the lover's mauling. - Dylan Thomas
The room was full with voices, loud music and beautiful people milling about everywhere. But all I noticed was her; beautiful, elegant and sitting alone in a quiet corner trying to remain unseen, to blend in, to become invisible, as if she actually thought such a thing were possible. - Tonny K. Brown