A Story Doesn't Live Until It Is

I've Always Been Very Confident In My Immaturity.

The Sudden And Abrupt Removal Of My All-consuming Goal ... Well, It Was Like I Was A Donut, And Somebody Had Sucked All The Jelly Out Of Me. But I Could Stuff New Jelly In There. It Would Just Get My Hands A Little Sticky In The Process.

A Story Doesn't Live Until It Is Imagined In Someone's Mind.

Yelling A Battle Cry—more To Motivate Himself Than Frighten His Foes—lukel Grabbed The Table Leg And Swung It At A Soldier. The Wood Bounced Off The Man's Helmet, But The Blow Was Powerful Enough To Daze Him, So Lukel Followed It With A Solid Blow To The Face. The Soldier Dropped And Lukel Grabbed His Weapon. Now He Had A Sword. He Only Wished He Knew How To Use It.

Our Belief Is Often Strongest When It Should Be Weakest. That Is The Nature Of Hope.