Tonight I will suck the marrow from your bones! it said. I will dry them and work them most cunningly into instruments of music! Whenever I play upon them, your spirit will writhe in bodiless agony!You burn prettily, I said.
Roger Zelazny
Tonight I will suck the marrow from your bones! it said. I will dry them and work them most cunningly into instruments of music! Whenever I play upon them, your spirit will writhe in bodiless agony!You burn prettily, I said.