Each Man Dreams His Own Heaven.

There Are People Whose Eyes You Must Avoid, Whose Attention You Must Not Draw To Yourself. They Are Strange, Parasitic Creatures, Lost Souls Seeking To Stretch Across The Abyss And Make Fatal Contact With The Warm, Constant Flow Of Humanity. They Live In Pain, And Exist Only To Visit That Pain On Others. A Random Glance, The Momentary Lingering Of A Look, Is Enough To Give Them The Excuse That They Seek. Sometimes, It Is Better To Keep Your Eyes On The Gutter For The Fear That, By Looking Up, You Might Catch A Glimpse Of Them, Black Shapes Against The Sun, And Be Blinded Forever.

And David Saw Himself Reflected In The Woodsman's Eyes, And There He Was No Longer Old But A Young Man, For A Man Is Always His Father's Child No Matter How Old He Is Or How Long They Have Been Apart.

He Had Quite Liked The Dwarfs. He Often Had No Idea What They Were Talking About, But For A Group Of Homicidal, Class-obsessed Small People, They Were Really Rather Good Fun.

Once Upon A Time – For That Is How All Stories Should Begin – There Was A Boy Who Lost His Mother.

Being Scared Isn't The Problem. It's Not Running Away That's The Hard Part.