It Seems To Me Further, That It

I Don't Believe In Fate," She Said At Last. "but I Do Believe In...loopholes. I Think A Lot Of What Keeps The World Going Is The Result Of Accidents — Happy Or Otherwise — And Taking Advantage Of These.

Oh,' She Said, Too Bone-weary To Pretend: 'i Would Far Rather That I Love You As I Saw Yesterday I Do Than That I Had Gone On Worshiping You As I Did Not Long Since.' And She Turned Away Hastily, And Did Not See That Little John Would Reach Out To Her; And Half-running, Went To Tuck's Cottage, Where She Could Pull On Her Half-dry Clothes, And Become A Proper Outlaw Again. At Least, She Thought, Fighting Back Tears, Like This I Am Cecil, With A Place Among Friends, And A Task To Do. I Am Someone. I Wonder If Perhaps If I Am No Longer Cecil, I Am No One At All.

The Weak Grey Light That Serves As Harbinger Of Red And Golden Dawn Faintly Lit My Window. I Fumbled For A Candle, Found And Lit It, And By Its Little Light Saw That The Rose Floating In The Bowl Was Dying. It Had Already Lost Most Of Its Petals, Which Floated On The Water Like Tiny, Un-seaworthy Boats, Deserted For Safer Craft. "dear God," I Said. "i Must Go Back At Once.

If You Wish, I Shall Go Personally To Your City And Knock Together The Heads Of Perlith And Galooney.

Oh, Why Does Compassion Weaken Us?' It Doesn't, Really...somewhere Where It All Balances Out-don't The Philosophers Have A Name For It, The Perfect Place, The Place Where The Answers Live?-if We Could Go There, You Could See It Doesn't.it Only Looks, A Little Bit, Like It Does, From Here, Like An Ant At The Foot Of An Oak Tree. He Doesn't Have A Clue That It's A Tree; It's The Beginning Of The Wall Round The World, To Him.