I Think Perhaps All Of Us Go

We're All Not Quite As Sane As We Pretend To Be.

Despite My Ghoulish Reputation, I Really Have The Heart Of A Small Boy. I Keep It In A Jar On My Desk.

I Always Carry A Pistol When I Go [to The New York Public Library]. Never Did Trust Those Stone Lions.

Henderson Sighed. There Was A Time, He Reflected, When The Coming Of This Night Meant Something. A Dark Europe, Groaning In Superstitious Fear, Dedicated This Eve To The Grinning Unknown. A Million Doors Had Once Been Barred Against The Evil Visitants, A Million Prayers Mumbled, A Million Candles Lit. There Was Something Majestic About The Idea, Henderson Reflected.

I Have The Heart Of A Child. I Keep It In A Jar On My Shelf.