I Am Ashamed Of Anyone Who Has

You Must Not Think Of Time As A Quantity, A Period, A Measure. Look At The Sky," Gwynneth Said. "the Moon Has Now Slipped Away To Another Night, Into Another World. It Was Not The Time It Was Here That You Remember, Faolan, But Rather The Luminescence Of The Air, The Blue Shadows Cast By The Trees In Its Light. It Was Not The Length Of The Time But The Quality Of The Moon's Light That You Felt And Remember." Gwynneth Paused. "it Is The Value, The Quality That Lives On.

When I Was Growing Up I Loved Reading Historical Fiction, But Too Often It Was About Males; Or, If It Was About Females, They Were Girls Who Were Going To Grow Up To Be Famous Like Betsy Ross, Clara Barton, Or Harriet Tubman. No One Ever Wrote About Plain, Normal, Everyday Girls.

Come To Us And Quackle And Quank. Relieve Us Of Our Stirrings With Your Fangs So Sharp And Bright Take This Blood That's Always Purring. Through Our Hollow Bones It Flows To Each Feather And Downy Fluff. Quell The Terrible, Horrid Urge That So Often Prinkles Us, Still Our Dreams, Make Slow Our Thoughts Let Tranquillity Flood Our Veins. Come To Us And Drink Your Fill So We Might End Our Pains. - The Owls At St. Aegolius Calling To The Bats

Night Is Done, Gone The Moon, Gone The Stars From The Skies. Fades The Black Of Night Comes The Morn With Rosy Light. Fold Your Wings, Go To Sleep, Rest Your Gizzards, Safe You'll Be For The Day. Glaux Is Nigh. Far Away Is First Black, But It Shall Seep Back Over Field Over Flower In The Twilight Hour. We Are Home In Our Tree. We Are Owls, We Are Free. As We Go, This We Know Glaux Is Nigh.

A Spark Can Become A Flame, A Flame A Fire.