He Who Hesitates Is Lost

Everyone, At Some Point In Their Lives, Wakes Up In The Middle Of The Night With The Feeling That They Are All Alone In The World, And That Nobody Loves Them Now And That Nobody Will Ever Love Them, And That They Will Never Have A Decent Night's Sleep Again And Will Spend Their Lives Wandering Blearily Around A Loveless Landscape, Hoping Desperately That Their Circumstances Will Improve, But Suspecting, In Their Heart Of Hearts, That They Will Remain Unloved Forever. The Best Thing To Do In These Circumstances Is To Wake Somebody Else Up, So That They Can Feel This Way, Too.

Keep Anyone With Whom You Can Read In Silence.

Opera Was An Enormous Part Of My Childhood. My Parents Were Both Opera Buffs, And They Met In The Box Seat Of An Opera Performance. And I Also Was A Boy Soprano, So Before Puberty Hit, I Was Onstage Playing A Wide Variety Of Orphans And Urchins In All Sorts Of Operas, And The Sheer Melodrama Of Their Stories Was Just Always Appealing To Me.

I Don't Know Why Wicked Places Generally Look Wicked. You'd Think They'd Look Nice, To Fool People, But They Hardly Ever Do.

But The Three Siblings Were Not Born Yesterday. Violet Was Born More Than Fifteen Years Before This Particular Wednesday, And Klaus Was Born Approximately Two Years After That, And Even Sunny, Who Had Just Passed Out Of Babyhood, Was Not Born Yesterday. Neither Were You, Unless Of Course I Am Wrong, In Which Case Welcome To The World, Little Baby, And Congratulations On Learning To Read So Early In Life.