She Knew Words No One Had Ever

Such A Thing As The Child Left Alone To Die In The Hallway Was Unknown On The Marsh. But Here, In The Dawn, Was Mortality Itself. In The City Were Places To Fall From Which One Could Never Emerge -- Dark Dreams And Slow Death, The Death Of Children, Suffering Without Grace Or Redemption, Ultimate And Eternal Loss. The Memory Of The Child Stayed With Him. But That Was Not To Be The End Of It, For Reality Went Around In A Twisting Ring. Even The Irredeemable Would Be Redeemed, And There Was A Balance For Everything. There Had To Be.

Words Were All He Knew; They Possessed And Overwhelmed Him, As If They Were A Thousand White Cats With Whom He Shared A One-room Apartment.

As It Somehow Always Manages Before The Winter Solstice, But Never After, The Early Darkness Was Cheerful And Promising, Even For Those Who Had Nothing.

Really The Best Way To Learn About Something Is Simply To Read It And Not Make A Scientific Theory Of Interpretation.

That's What The Left Is Always Doing. They Have An Ideal, And They Want People To Conform To It. When People Don't Conform To It, They End Up Being Beaten Into The Mold. And Beaten Sometimes Hard Enough So That If They Don't Fit, Then They Kill Them. That's What Happened In The Soviet Union And China.