Be Unswervingly And Eternally Loyal To The

All Sorrows Can Be Borne If You Can Put Them Into A Story.

When In The End, The Day Came On Which I Was Going Away, I Learned The Strange Learning That Things Can Happen Which We Ourselves Cannot Possibly Imagine, Either Beforehand, Or At The Time When They Are Taking Place, Or Afterwards When We Look Back On Them.

It Is A Sad Hardship And Slavery To People Who Live In Towns, That In Their Movements They Know Of One Dimension Only; They Walk Along The Line As If They Were Led On A String. The Transition From The Line To The Plane Into The Two Dimensions, When You Wander Across A Field Or Through A Wood, Is A Splendid Liberation To The Slaves, Like The French Revolution. But In The Air You Are Taken Into The Full Freedom Of The Three Dimensions; After Long Ages Of Exile And Dreams The Homesick Heart Throws Itself Into The Arms Of Space.

For Really, Dreaming Is The Well-mannered People's Way Of Committing Suicide.

Where The Storyteller Is Loyal, Eternally And Unswervingly Loyal To The Story, There, In The End, Silence Will Speak. Where The Story Has Been Betrayed, Silence Is But Emptiness. But We, The Faithful, When We Have Spoken Our Last Word, Will Hear The Voice Of Silence.