I want and I want and I will die wanting, but first I will have something.  This time I will have something.    I say it aloud.  'This time I will have something.'  I step toward them.  The power makes me dizzy.  It is enormous.  They feel it.  They back away.  They crouch in the shadow of my outstretched wings.  It isn't deceit this time but the real magic at last, the genuine thing: the cabala of my hate, of my <a href=allshallbewell.html>irreconcilableness</a>.<br>
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp Logic is nothing.  <a href=satine.html>Desire</a> is stronger.<br>
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp  '<i>I will have something</i>.  I will have terror.  I will have drought.  I bring the dearth.  Famine's contagious.  Also is thirst.  Privation, privation, barrenness, void.  I dry up your glands. I poison your well.'