Writing Is Tyranny ... But Reading Is

Just Sort Of Relax Your Mind And Say Yes, It Does Hurt, I Know. Don't Try And Shut It Out.

I Know Whom We Must Fight...it Is The Church. For All Its History, It's Tried To Suppress And Control Every Natural Impulse.that Is What The Church Does, And Every Church Is The Same: Control, Destroy, Obliterate Every Good Feeling.

Do Not Lie To The Scholar.

On A Cold, Fretful Afternoon In Early October, 1872, A Hansom Cab Drew Up Outside The Offices Of Lockhart And Selby, Shipping Agents, In The Financial Heart Of London, And A Young Girl Got Out And Paid The Driver. She Was A Person Of Sixteen Or So--alone, And Uncommonly Pretty. She Was Slender And Pale, And Dressed In Mourning, With A Black Bonnet Under Which She Tucked Back A Straying Twist Of Blond Hair That The Wind Had Teased Loose. She Had Unusually Dark Brown Eyes For One So Fair. Her Name Was Sally Lockhart; And Within Fifteen Minutes, She Was Going To Kill A Man.

Do You Think I Could Bear To Live On After You Died? Oh, Lyra, I'd Follow You Down To The World Of The Dead Without Thinking Twice About It, Just Like You Followed Roger; And That Would Be Two Lives Gone For Nothing, My Life Wasted Like Yours. No, We Should Spend Our Whole Lifetimes Together, Good Long Busy Lives, And If We Can't Spend Them Together, We... We'll Have To Spend Them Apart.