Hello, Inner Child, I'm The Inner Babysitter!

Take The Universe And Grind It Down To The Finest Powder And Sieve It Through The Finest Sieve And Then Show Me One Atom Of Justice, One Molecule Of Mercy. And Yet... And Yet You Act As If There Is Some Ideal Order In The World, As If There Is Some... Some Rightness In The Universe By Which It May Be Judged.

I'd Like To Sell A Lot Of Books.

I'm Mean And Turf And I'm Mean And Turf And I'm Mean And Turf And I'm Mean And Turf, And Me An' My Friends Can Walk Towards You With Our Hats On Backwards In A Menacing Way, Yo!

The Stories Never Said Why She Was Wicked. It Was Enough To Be An Old Woman, Enough To Be All Alone, Enough To Look Strange Because You Have No Teeth. It Was Enough To Be Called A Witch. If It Came To That, The Book Never Gave You The Evidence Of Anything. It Talked About "a Handsome Prince"... Was He Really, Or Was It Just Because He Was A Prince That People Called Handsome? As For "a Girl Who Was As Beautiful As The Day Was Long"... Well, Which Day? In Midwinter It Hardly Ever Got Light! The Stories Don't Want You To Think, They Just Wanted You To Believe What You Were Told.

Truly, He Thought, The Way Of Enlightenment Is Like Unto Half A Mile Of Broken Glass.