Oh, Of Course, I Always Feel Unconfident.

How Deep And Sticky Is The Darkness Of Childhood, How Rigid The Blades Of Infant Evil, Which Is Unadulterated, Unrestrained By The Convenient Cushions Of Age And Its Civilizing Anesthesia.

When Your Mama Was The Geek, My Dreamlets," Papa Would Say, "she Made The Nipping Off Of Noggins Such A Crystal Mystery That The Hens Themselves Yearned Toward Her, Waltzing Around Her, Hypnotized With Longing.

A Carnival In Daylight Is An Unfinished Beast, Anyway. Rain Makes It A Ghost. The Wheezing Music From The Empty, Motionless Rides In A Soggy, Rained-out Afternoon Midway Always Hit My Chest With A Sweet Ache. The Colored Dance Of Lights In The Seeping Air Flashed The Puddles In The Sawdust With An Oily Glamour.

But The Animation Has Become Very Good, And I Think That A Movie Is Not A Book, And A Book Is Not A Movie.

I Am Here, Come Closer," The Old Donkey Said With Her Eyes. "i Will Mother You.