Believe, Believe, Believe

Dustfinger Still Clearly Remembered The Feeling Of Being In Love For The First Time. How Vulnerable His Heart Had Suddenly Been! Such A Trembling, Quivering Thing, Happy And Miserably Unhappy At Once.

Perhaps The Story In The Book Is Just The Lid On A Pan: It Always Stays The Same, But Underneath There's A Whole World That Goes On - Developing And Changing Like Our Own World.

She Always Did Like Tales Of Adventure-stories Full Of Brightness And Darkness. She Could Tell You The Names Of All King Arthur's Knights, And She Knew Everything About Beowulf And Grendel, The Ancient Gods And The Not-quite-so-ancient Heroes. She Liked Pirate Stories, Too, But Most Of All She Loved Books That Had At Least A Knight Or A Dragon Or A Fairy In Them. She Was Always On The Dragon's Side By The Way.

Power. Intoxicating. Like A Fine Wine.

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.