Small Facts Lead To Great Knowing.

Some People Are Going To Be Impatient No Matter What. If I Wrote Two Books A Year, Someone Out There Would Be Pissed I Wasn't Writing Three.

But Even This Piece Of Flattery Couldn't Distract Me From The Fact That I Was In The Center Of The Fae Realm, Blind, Stark Naked, And Without The Slightest Idea Of What Was Going On.

It Was Wise Enough To Know Itself, And Brave Enough To Be Itself, And Wild Enough To Change Itself While Somehow Staying Altogether True.

The Waystone Was His, Just As The Third Silence Was His. This Was Appropriate, As It Was The Greatest Silence Of The Three, Wrapping The Others Inside Itself. It Was Deep And Wide As Autumn’s Ending. It Was Heavy As A Great River-smooth Stone. It Was The Patient, Cut-flower Sound Of A Man Who Is Waiting To Die.

We Need To Read Good Books, And For That To Happen, We Need To Share Good Books.