Depression Is Anger Slowed Down; Panic Is

Afterwards, In Bed With A Book, The Spell Of Television Feels Remote Compared To The Journey Into The Page. To Be In A Book. To Slip Into The Crease Where Two Pages Meet, To Live In The Place Where Your Eyes Alight Upon The Words To Ignite A World Of Smoke And Peril, Colour And Serene Delight. That Is A Journey No One Can End With The Change Of A Channel. Enduring Magic.

Do You Think There's Such A Thing As A Ghost Who Masquerades As A Person? Do You Believe That There Are People Whose Bodies Are Still Alive Here On Earth But Whose Souls Are Already In Hell?

Materia Had Been Just Six When They Docked In Sydney Harbour And Her Father Said, 'look. This Is The New World. Anything Is Possible Here.' She's Been Too Young To Realize That He Was Talking To Her Brother.

Tell The Story, Gather The Events, Repeat Them. Pattern Is A Matter Of Upkeep. Otherwise The Weave Relaxes Back To Threads Picked Up By Birds To Make Their Nests. Repeat, Or The Story Will Fall And All The King's Horses And All The King's Men. . . . Repeat, And Cradle The Pieces Carefully, Or Events Will Scatter Like Marbles On A Wooden Floor.

You Think You're Safe. Until You See A Picture Like That. And Then You Know You'll Always Be A Slave To The Present Because The Present Is More Powerful Than The Past, No Matter How Long Ago The Present Happened.