The Tail Of The Comet Slashed The

Come To Us And Quackle And Quank. Relieve Us Of Our Stirrings With Your Fangs So Sharp And Bright Take This Blood That's Always Purring. Through Our Hollow Bones It Flows To Each Feather And Downy Fluff. Quell The Terrible, Horrid Urge That So Often Prinkles Us, Still Our Dreams, Make Slow Our Thoughts Let Tranquillity Flood Our Veins. Come To Us And Drink Your Fill So We Might End Our Pains. - The Owls At St. Aegolius Calling To The Bats

Whether You Are A Twelve-year-old Princess Or A Twelve-year-old Regular Kid, You Need To Know You Are Loved And Respected.

Hush Little Owl, You're With Twi. I Got The Moves To Get You By. Big Bad Crows. St. Aggie's Scamps Ain't Got Nothin To Show The Champ. I'll Pop A Spiral With A Twist, Do A Three-sixty And Scatter Mist----

Our Lives Are Just Spectacles. We Are Like Dolls, In A Sense, To Be Observed And Played With - Often With Cruel And Deceitful Intentions - In An Unreal World.

I Believe That Reading Widely Is The Best Preparation For Writing.