Contempt Mates Well With Pity.

Not Only Is Your Story Worth Telling, But It Can Be Told In Words So Painstakingly Eloquent That It Becomes A Song.

Words Themselves Are Innocuous; It Is The Consensus That Gives Them True Power.

Spoiled. That's All It's About - Can't Live Without This, Can't Live Without That. You Can Live Without Anything You Weren't Born With, And You Can Make It Through On Even Half Of That.

She Could Walk Through A Lightning Storm Without Being Touched; Grab A Bolt Of Lightning In The Palm Of Her Hand; Use The Heat Of Lightning To Start The Kindling Going Under Her Medicine Pot. She Turned The Moon Into Salve, The Stars Into Swaddling Cloth, And Healed The Wounds Of Every Creature Walking Up On Two Or Down On Four.

In A Contest Between New Technology And Old Ways Of Life, It Is The Traditional Rhythms That Will Hold. Traditional Societies Make Up More Than Two-thirds Of The World, The Two-thirds That Will Not Be Going Online To "save" Time But Will Remain Wedded To The Knowledge That If The Bus Doesn't Come That Day, It Will Come Someday. After All, There Is Nothing But Time.