Keep a patch of grave dirt handy for passing ghouls to munch on, to run their fingers through.
Sometimes it is the smallest shadow in a bright world that makes the biggest difference.
A Witch is born out of the true hungers of her time. I am a child of the poisonous wind that copulated with the river on an oil-slick, garbage infested midnight. I turn about on my own parentage. I inoculate against those very biles that brought me to light. I am a serum born of venoms. I am the antibody of all time.
— Long After Midnight, Ray Bradbury (via owls-love-tea)