Children See Magic Because They Look For

It Was Watching Madeline Alby Eat Cheese With Every Ounce Of Her Being, Like It Was The First And Best Time, That Made Him Realize That He Had Never Really Tasted Cheese, Or Crackers, Or Life. And He Didn't Want His Daughter To Live That Way. He'd Moved Her Into Her Own Room The Night Before...he Hadn't Slept Well, And Had Gotten Up Five Times During The Night To Check On Her, Only To Find Her Sleeping Peacefully, But He Could Lose A Little Sleep If Sophie Could Go Through Life Without His Fears And Limitations. He Wanted Her To Experience All The Glorious Cheese Of Life.

An Original Thought Would Crack Your Feeble Skull Like A Thunderbolt, You Craven Vulture.

You Don't Hurry A Thinker, And You Don't Talk To Him When He's Thinking. It's Just Inconsiderate.

Like Looking Down On A Lubricious Chess Set, Isn't It? The King Moves In Tiny Steps, With No Direction, Like A Drunkard Trying To Avoid The Archer's Bolt. The Others Work Their Strategies And Wait For The Old Man To Fall. He Has No Power, Yet All Power Moves In His Orbit And To His Mad Whim. Do You Know There's No Fool Piece On The Chessboard, Kent?" "methinks The Fool Is The Player, The Mind Above The Moves.

I Wanted A Trumpet Concerto That Reflected Native American Music Because, Well, There Aren't Any. I Looked Around For One But Couldn't Find Anything. So It's A Wide-open Field.