At Night The Sky Is Pure Astronomy.

The Book Forest Dark Wants To Provoke Questions About What Is Reality And Why Are We So Given To Believe That Reality Is Firm And Unbendable. There's A Whole Host Of Questions That The Book Is Asking About That. Why Do We Believe That The World Is Only One Way And As We See It? Why Are We Not Open To The Ways In Which It Might Be Otherwise.

The Fact That You Got A Little Happier Today Doesn't Change The Fact That You Also Became A Little Sadder. Every Day You Become A Little More Of Both, Which Means That Right Now, At This Exact Moment, You're The Happiest And Saddest You've Ever Been In Your Whole Life.

The Unique Thing That Literature Provides Is To Be Able To Step So Fully Into Another Situation And Condition.

Franz Kafka Is Dead. He Died In A Tree From Which He Wouldn't Come Down. "come Down!" They Cried To Him. "come Down! Come Down!" Silence Filled The Night, And The Night Filled The Silence, While They Waited For Kafka To Speak. "i Can't," He Finally Said, With A Note Of Wistfulness. "why?" They Cried. Stars Spilled Across The Black Sky. "because Then You'll Stop Asking For Me."

I Won't Waste Your Time With The Injuries Of My Childhood, With My Loneliness, Or The Fear And Sadness Of The Years I Spent Inside My Parents' Marriage, Under The Reign Of My Father's Rage, Afer All, Who Isn't A Survivor From The Wreck Of Childhood?