Magic Is The Art Of Thinking, Not

Into The Sky To Win Or Die.

No-one Can Function Properly Without Occasional Peace And Quiet.

The Name, His True Name, Was Weaker And More Flawed Than He Would Have Liked, And He Hated Himself For That, But There Was Also Much To Admire Within It, And The More He Thought About It, The More He Was Able To Accept The True Nature Of His Self. He Was Not The Best Person In The World, But Neither Was He The Worst.

It Was As If His Point Of View Had, Within Seconds, Gone From That Of An Ant To That Of An Eagle. For The Sky Was Hollow, And The World Was Round.

Her Sculptured Face Was As Perfect As A Painting.