He Wept, And It Felt As If

"i Liked The Feeling Of Love," [jonas] Confessed. He Glanced Nervously At The Speaker On The Wall, Reassuring Himself That No One Was Listening. "i Wish We Still Had That," He Whispered. "of Course," He Added Quickly, "i Do Understand That It Wouldn't Work Very Well. And That It's Much Better To Be Organized The Way We Are Now. I Can See That It Was A Dangerous Way To Live." [...] "still," He Said Slowly, Almost To Himself, "i Did Like The Light They Made. And The Warmth."

Of Course They Needed To Care. It Was The Meaning Of Everything.

I'm Not Terribly Conversant With Children's Literature In General. I Tend To Read Books For Adults, Being An Adult.

For The First Time, He Heard Something That He Knew To Be Music. He Heard People Singing. Behind Him, Across Vast Distances Of Space And Time, From The Place He Had Left, He Thought He Heard Music Too. But Perhaps, It Was Only An Echo.

I Would Say That Most Of My Books Are Contemporary Realistic Fiction... A Couple, Maybe Three, Fall Into The 'historic Fiction' Category. Science Fiction Is Not A Favorite Genre Of Mine, Though I Have Greatly Enjoyed Some Of The Work Of Ursula Leguin. I Haven't Read Much Science Fiction So I Don't Know Other Sci-fi Authors.