My Son Always Says I Like Very

From The Tower Battlements, Dustfinger Looked Down On A Lake As Black As Night, Where The Reflection Of The Castle Swam In A Sea Of Stars. The Wind Passing Over His Unscarred Face Was Cold From The Snow Of The Surrounding Mountains, And Dustfinger Relished Life As If He Were Tasting It For The First Time. The Longing It Brought, And The Desire. All The Bitterness, All The Sweetness, Even If It Was Only For A While, Never For More Than A While, Everything Gained And Lost, Lost And Found Again.

The Book She Had Been Reading Was Under Her Pillow, Pressing Its Cover Against Her Ear As If To Lure Her Back Into Its Printed Pages.

Many [book] Even Lay Flat In The Floor Open. Their Spines Upward. Elinor Couldn't Bear To Look! Didn't The Monster Know That Was The Way To Break A Book's Neck?

What's The Matter Princess? Do You Know The End Of Your Story?

She Wanted To Return To Her Dream. Perhaps It Was Still Somewhere There Behind Her Closed Eyelids. Perhaps A Little Of Its Happiness Still Clung Like Gold Dust To Her Lashes. Don't Dreams In Fairy Tales Sometimes Leave A Token Behind?