Reading Is My Passion.

The Story Is Not A Pretty One. There Is Violence In It. And Cruelty. But Stories That Are Not Pretty Have A Certain Value, Too, I Suppose. Everything, As You Well Know (having Lived In This World Long Enough To Have Figured Out A Thing Or Two For Yourself), Cannont Always Be Sweetness And Light.

Look At Me, He Said To Her. His Arms And Legs Jerked. Look At Me. You Got Your Wish. I Have Learned How To Love. And It’s A Terrible Thing. I’m Broken. My Heart Is Broken. Help Me. The Old Woman Turned And Hobbled Away. Come Back, Thought Edward. Fix Me

Farewell” Is Not The Word That You Would Like To Hear From Your Mother As You Are Being Led To The Dungeon By 2 Oversize Mice In Black Hoods. Words That You Would Like To Hear Are “take Me Instead, I Will Go To The Dungeon In My Sons Place.” There Is A Great Deal Of Comfort In Those Words.

Reader, Do You Think It Is A Terrible Thing To Hope When There Is Really No Reason To Hope At All? Or Is It (as The Soldier Said About Happiness) Something That You Might Just As Well Do, Since,in The End, It Really Makes No Difference To Anyone But You?

At Least Lester Had The Decency To Weep At His Act Of Perfidy. Reader, Do You Know What 'perfidy' Means? I Have A Feeling You Do, Based On The Scene That Unfolded Here. But You Should Look Up The Word In Your Dictionary, Just To Be Sure.