It Was A Particularly Good Evening To

Before We Left, Grandmother Talked A Lot About The Arctic Night We Would Fly Through. 'isn't It A Mystical Word, "arctic"? Pure And Quite Hard. And Meridians. Isn't That Pretty? We're Going To Fly Along Them, Faster Than The Light Can Follow Us... Time Won't Be Able To Catch Us.

I'm Not Sure I Would Have Ever Started To Draw, Let Alone Write, If My Childhood Hadn't Been So Happy. It Was A Mixture Of Comfort And Adventure. An Excellent Mixture!

But He Thought All The Strange Words Were Beautiful, And He Had Never Had A Book Of His Own Before.

Making A Journey By Night Is More Wonderful Than Anything In The World.

My Bag Was As Light As My Happy-go-lucky Heart.