Words of the Constant
WendyExtra-spooky!
WendySuppose I can play Solitaire.
WendyThe mortal obsession with material things.
WendyI feel the urge to stare into it.
WendyIt's illuminating... for now.
WendyWe pulled the flowers from their homes for our own amusement.
WendyIt, too, will die.
WendyI think it's lovelier this way...
WendyGreat.
WendyIt will be worth more after the artist dies.
WendyLeave it.
WendyIn the end, all we have are pictures.
WendyThat horn won't protect you.
WendyIt lives in a constant state of fear.
WendyDeath incarnate!
WendyAshes to ashes.
WendyThis body is nothing but an empty vessel.
WendyYou should stay down.
WendyNo colder than a world without Abigail.
WendyHot. Cold. What does it matter?
WendyI guess I could set this up and be helpful.
WendyWhat terrors must it see.
WendyWe have grabbed life by its horn... though I wish we hadn't.
WendySome chains are physical...
WendyThe remains of a tuft of grass.
WendyNow no one can tell when I'm crying.
WendyIt can't dry away all my tears.
WendyI can't remember the last time my eyes were dry.
WendyOh look. More dirt.
WendyThe source is distant.
WendyIt is forever seeking its lost half.
WendySomething wicked is here!
WendyThe wickedness draws closer.
WendyIt is very close now.
WendyWhat does this newfangled thing do?
WendyIt still needs a large key.
WendyWhat mysteries will be revealed!
WendyI could use that.
WendyI will build it, but no one will come.
WendyWhat would be the point?
WendyIt's pretty.
WendyI can help set this up, I guess.
WendyI suppose I can make myself useful in some small way and put it together.
WendyThe belly of the beast.
WendyI missed having someone make me dinner...
WendyIt's burning on the inside.
WendyBoom box.
WendyIt holds multitudes, and refuses to burn away.
WendyIts teeth do not even gnash.
WendyPathetic.