I Firmly Believe That A Story Is

O Little One, My Little One, Come With Me, Your Life Is Done. Forget The Future, Forget The Past. Life Is Over: Breathe Your Last.

To Dream In Isolation Can Be Properly Splendid To Be Sure; But To Dream In Company Seems To Me Infinitely Preferable.

Never Believe Your Eyes

My Feet Are Killing Me." "i Knew Somebody Who Had Feet Like That. They'd Walk All Over Him. Archie Kashanian Was His Name. He Used To Wake Up With Footprints All Over His Chest, All Over His Face. It Was The Death Of Him, Finally.

Harvey Wasn't Interested In The Clothes, It Was The Masks That Mesmerized Him. They Were Like Snowflakes: No Two Alike. Some Were Made Of Wood And Of Plastic; Some Of Straw And Cloth And Papier-mâché. Some Were As Bright As Parrots, Others As Pale As Parchment. Some Were So Grotesque He Was Certain They'd Been Carved By Crazy People; Others So Perfect They Looked Like The Death Masks Of Angels. There Were Masks Of Clowns And Foxes, Masks Like Skulls Decorated With Real Teeth, And One With Carved Flames Instead Of Hair.