Those Unable To Catalog The Past Are

The Last Safe Place Is Safe No More.

One Has To Adopt A Sort Of Zen Calm, In Which You Know You Wrote The Best Book That You Could At The Time.

I Waited Just To See You At That Kind Of Peace, I Wanted To Be Beside You, I Wanted You To Wake Up Slowly Or Startle, Or Just Half Awaken And Turn Over Or Murmur My Name. I Wanted To Watch You Forever, Or Sleep Beside You Forever, Or Sleep Forever While You Woke And Watched Me, Something Forever Anyway. I Wanted To Kiss You, Rumple Your Hair, Rest Three Fingertips On Your Hip Bone Warm And Smooth, Wake You That Way Or Hush You Back To Sleep.

Count Olaf Certainly Does Sound Evil. Imagine Forcing Children To Stand Near A Stove!

There Was Something I Was Always Very Good At, However, And That Was Teaching Myself Not To Be Frightened While Frightening Things Are Going On. It Is Difficult To Do This, But I Had Learned. It Is Simply A Matter Of Putting One’s Fear Aside, Like The Vegetable On The Plate You Don’t Want To Touch Until All Of Your Rice And Chicken Are Gone, And Getting Frightened Later, When One Is Out Of Danger. Sometimes I Imagine I Will Be Frightened For The Rest Of My Life Because Of All Of The Fear I Put Aside During My Time In Stain’d-by-the-sea.