This little girl inside me Is retreating to her favourite place. Go into the garden. Go under the ivy, Under the leaves, Away from the party. Go right to the rose. Go right to the white rose (For me.)

I'm reeling in the music, And I've only had a few... And I'm afraid by the way we grow old... My darling...

It's not easy for me To give away a secret - It's not safe:

Warm and soothing That's how I remember home. Walking into arms through the back door Hearing voices I know well and long for.

'Man's craving for the supernatural is as natural as our discounting of the present moment... The natural becomes trite and commonplace to us and we take refug…

Yet there are moments when the walls of the mind grow thin; when nothing is unabsorbed, and I could fancy that we might blow so vast a bubble that the sun migh…

Ophelia's mind went wandering you'd wonder where she'd gone through secret doors down corridors she'd wander them alone