Even A Poet Cannot Get Everything Right.

No Darkness Lasts Forever. And Even There, There Are Stars.

There Are Souls, He Thought, Whose Umbilicus Has Never Been Cut. They Never Got Weaned From The Universe. They Do Not Understand Death As An Enemy; They Look Forward To Rotting And Turning Into Humus.

In That Moment Ged Understood The Singing Of The Bird, And The Language Of The Water Falling In The Basin Of The Fountain, And The Shape Of The Clouds, And The Beginning And End Of The Wind That Stirred The Leaves; It Seemed To Him That He Himself Was A Word Spoken By The Sunlight.

The Question Is Always The Same With A Dragon: Will He Talk With You Or Will He Eat You?

Owning Is Owing, Having Is Hoarding.