The fault must partly have been in me. The bird was not to blame for his key. And of course there must be something wrong In wanting to silence any song.
The fault must partly have been in me. The bird was not to blame for his key. And of course there must be something wrong In wanting to silence any song.
When she transformed into a butterfly, the caterpillars spoke not of her beauty, but of her weirdness. They wanted her to change back into what she always had been. But she had wings. — Dean Jackson
