The Sun Rose Slowly, As If It

I Dinna Trust Him," Said Slightly Mad Angus. "he Reads Books An' Such.

The Best Research You Can Do Is To Talk To People.

There Are All Kinds Of Darkness, And All Kinds Of Things Can Be Found In Them, Imprisoned, Banished, Lost Or Hidden. Sometimes They Escape. Sometimes They Simply Fall Out. Sometimes They Just Can't Take It Any More.

Some Of Them Wanted To Sell Me Snake Oil And I'm Not Necessarily Going To Dismiss All Of These, As I Have Never Found A Rusty Snake.

Theres No Stink More Sorrorful Than The Stink Of Wet, Burnt Paper. It Means: The End.