Nothing Is More Frightening Than A Fear

The Truth's Not Pretty Of Course. No One Likes To Look It In The Face.

The Fairy's Dress Rustled As She Turned. Human Women Dressed Like Flowers, Layers Of Petals Around A Mortal, Rotting Core.

Desperate? So What? I'm Desperate, Too!" Fenoglio Snapped At Her. "my Story Is Foundering In Misfortune, And These Hands Here," He Said Holding Them Out To Her, "don't Want To Write Anymore! I'm Afraid Of Words Meggie! 'once They Were Like Honey, Now They're Poison, Pure Poison! But What Is A Writer Who Doesn't Love Words Anymore? What Have I Come To? This Story Is Devouring Me, Crushing Me, And I'm It's Creator!

Why Did Death Make Life Taste So Much Sweeter? Why Could The Heart Love Only What It Could Also Lose?

A Library Book, I Imagine, Is A Happy Book.