Hey, Don't Take This The Wrong Way,

Perhaps There's Another, Much Larger Story Behind The Printed One, A Story That Changes Just As Our Own World Does. And The Letters On The Page Tell Us Only As Much As We'd See Peering Through A Keyhole. Perhaps The Story In The Book Is Just The Lid On A Pan: It Always Stays The Same, But Underneath There's A Whole World That Goes On - Developing And Changing Like Our Own World.

The Night Swallowed Him Up Like A Thieving Fox.

My Grandmother Told Stories; She Was Very Good At That.

Thats Beautiful! Sad And Beautiful," Murmured Meggie. Why Were Sad Stories Often So Beautiful? It Was Different In Real Life.

Dustfinger Inspected His Reddened Fingers And Felt The Taut Skin. ‘he Might Tell Me How My Story Ends,’ He Murmured. Meggie Looked At Him In Astonishment. ‘you Mean You Don’t Know?’ Dustfinger Smiled. Meggie Still Didn’t Particularly Like His Smile. It Seemed To Appear Only To Hide Something Else. ‘what’s So Unusual About That, Princess?’ He Asked Quietly. ‘do You Know How Your Story Ends?’ Meggie Had No Answer For That.