It Is Simply This: Do Not Tire,

The Lamp Sizzled As It Burned. It Made Everything Seem Close And Safe, A Little Family Circle They All Knew And Trusted. Outside This Circle Lay Everything That Was Strange And Frightening, And The Darkness Seemed To Reach Higher And Higher And Further And Further Away, Right To The End Of The World.

A Very Long Time Ago, Grandmother Had Wanted To Tell About All The Things They Did, But No One Had Bothered To Ask. And Now She Had Lost The Urge.

An Island Can Be Dreadful For Someone From Outside. Everything Is Complete, And Everyone Has His Obstinate, Sure And Self-sufficient Place. Within Their Shores, Everything Functions According To Rituals That Are As Hard As Rock From Repetition, And At The Same Time They Amble Through Their Days As Whimsically And Casually As If The World Ended At The Horizon.

A Theatre Is The Most Important Sort Of House In The World, Because That's Where People Are Shown What They Could Be If They Wanted, And What They'd Like To Be If They Dared To And What They Really Are

A Person Can Find Anything If He Takes The Time, That Is, If He Can Afford To Look. And While He's Looking, He's Free, And He Finds Things He Never Expected.