A Starving Child Is A Frightful Sight.

Something In Me Was Responding Now As The Audience Responded, Not In Fear, But In Some Human Way, To The Magic Of That Fragile Painted Set, The Mystery Of The Lighted World There.

There Are So Many Books I Mean To Read, And Things I Mean To See.

It Was As If The Empty Nights Were Made For Thinking Of Him. And Sometimes I Found Myself So Vividly Aware Of Him It Was As If He Had Only Just Left The Room And The Ring Of His Voice Were Still There. And Somehow, There Was A Disturbing Comfort In That, And, Despite Myself, I’d Envision His Face.

I Don't Believe In Anything, Mother," I Said. "you Told Armand Long Ago That You Believe You'll Find Answers In The Great Jungles And Forests; That The Stars Will Finally Reveal A Vast Truth. But I Don't Believe In Anything. And That Makes Me Stronger Than You Think

My Last Sunrise. That Morning, I Was Not Yet A Vampire. And I Saw My Last Sunrise. I Remember It Completely; Yet I Do Not Think I Remember Any Other Sunrise Before It.