I Am Entirely Alone. I And My

There's A Theory, One I Find Persuasive, That The Quest For Knowledge Is, At Bottom, The Search For The Answer To The Question: Where Was I Before I Was Born. In The Beginning Was What? Perhaps, In The Beginning, There Was A Curious Room, A Room Like This One, Crammed With Wonders; And Now The Room And All It Contains Are Forbidden You, Although It Was Made Just For You, Had Been Prepared For You Since Time Began, And You Will Spend All Your Life Trying To Remember It.

Stars On Our Door, Stars In Our Eyes, Stars Exploding In The Bits Of Our Brains Where The Common Sense Should Have Been

That Is What I'm Looking Forward To The Most, Practical Learning. I Want To Be A Registered Nurse So Getting To Talk To People Who Already Work In Those Jobs Can Really Teach Me What To Expect When I Get Out In The Real World.

The End Of All Stories, Even If The Writer Forebears To Mention It, Is Death, Which Is Where Time Stops Short. Sheherezade Knew This, Which Is Why She Kept On Spinning Another Story Out Of The Bowels Of The Last One, Never Coming To A Point Where She Could Say: "this Is The End." Because It Would Have Been.

The Only Time I Ever Iron The Sheets Or Make Meringues Is When There Is An ... Urgent Deadline In The Offing.