I Thought I Was Going Nowhere. Now

I Read My Books Out Loud To Myself Because Of The Demands Of The Story And Demands Of Language.

The Undoing Is Almost Always More Difficult Than The Doing.

Say It, Reader. Say The Word 'quest' Out Loud. It Is An Extraordinary Word, Isn't It? So Small And Yet So Full Of Wonder, So Full Of Hope.

The Story Is Not A Pretty One. There Is Violence In It. And Cruelty. But Stories That Are Not Pretty Have A Certain Value, Too, I Suppose. Everything, As You Well Know (having Lived In This World Long Enough To Have Figured Out A Thing Or Two For Yourself), Cannont Always Be Sweetness And Light.

I Have Been Loved, Edward Told The Stars. So? Said The Stars. What Difference Does That Make When You Are All Alone Now?