But I Must Go On," Said The

A Clock Is Not Time; It's Numbers And Springs. Pay It No Mind.

Her Face Was A Stranger’s Face, Which Was As It Should Be. Love Each Other From The Day We Are Born To The Day We Die, We Are Still Strangers Every Minute, And Nobody Should Forget That, Even Though We Have To.

All Lives Are Composed Of Two Basic Elements," The Squirrel Said, "purpose And Poetry. By Being Ourselves, Squirrel And Raven, We Fulfill The First Requirement, You In Flight And I In My Tree. But There Is Poetry In The Meanest Of Lives, And If We Leave It Unsought We Leave Ourselves Unrealized. A Life Without Food, Without Shelter, Without Love, A Life Lived In The Rain—this Is Nothing Beside A Life Without Poetry.

The Moon Was Gone, But To The Magician's Eyes The Unicorn Was The Moon, Cold And White And Very Old, Lighting His Way To Safety, Or To Madness.

I Am Afraid! It Is Not Starving I Fear, Or Talking To People, Or Even Being Alone. But I Cannot Bear To Be Useless And Ineffectual. There Must Be Some Meaning To Me, If Not To My Life; There Must Surely Be Some Purpose That Has My Name Written On It. If This Is Not So, If I Am Deceiving Myself About This Too, Then Why Should I Want To Become Real? What Reason Have I To Live Anywhere?