What's The Matter Princess? Do You Know

Blue As The Evening Sky, Blue As Cranesbill Flowers, Blue As The Lips Of Drowned Men And The Heart Of A Blaze Burning With Too Hot A Flame. Yes, Sometimes It Was Hot In This World, Too. Hot And Cold, Light And Dark, Terrible And Beautiful, It Was Everything All At Once. It Wasn't True That You Felt Nothing In The Land Of Death. You Felt And Heard And Smelled And Saw, But Your Heart Remained Strangely Calm, As If It Were Resting Before The Dance Began Again. Peace. Was That The Word?

Because By Now Elinor Had Understood This, Too: A Longing For Books Was Nothing Compared With What You Could Feel For Human Beings. The Books Told You About That Feeling. The Books Spoke Of Love, And It Was Wonderful To Listen To Them, But They Were No Substitute For Love Itself. They Couldn't Kiss Her Like Meggie, They Couldn't Hug Her Like Resa, They Couldn't Laugh Like Mortimer. Poor Books, Poor Elinor.

In Love - It Sounded Like A Sickness Without Any Cure, And Wasn't That Just How It Sometimes Felt?

All Books Are In Safe Hands With Me. They're My Children, My Inky Children, And I Look After Them Well. I Keep The Sunlight Away From Their Pages, I Dust And Protect Them From Hungry Hookworms And Grubby Human Fingers.

Nothing Is More Terrifying Than Fearlessness.