"I think your applause died out, hands red, tired, and stained with the hue of once excited blood. I think you thought I was magic. Did my curtain lift when I forgot to take my bow? I think you thought you saw mirrors hiding in the fog and light. Backstage and alone I will slide off the cape, set down the hat, and bow to the empty seat I thought you were filling. I think you thought I was magic."
- T. Knott Gregson
br brave my darling, be true to your soul
from my journals