I Enjoy Going Back And Forth Between

The Year She Had Run Fleetly Through The Dewy Grass Under The Moon- The Night Of Wine, When Dreams Condensed Out Of Thin Air Like The Nightmilk Of Fantasy.

What If I Fall?', Tim Cried. Maerlyn Laughed. 'sooner Or Later, We All Do.

The Turtle Couldn't Help Us.

If A Writer Knows What He Or She Is Doing, I'll Go Along For The Ride. If He Or She Doesn't... Well, I'm In My Fifties Now, And There Are A Lot Of Books Out There. I Don't Have Time To Waste With The Poorly Written Ones.

I Stood For Almost An Hour In A Line Of Shuffling, Bitter - Eyed Late Mailers (christmas Is Such A Carefree, Low - Pressure Time - That's One Of The Things I Love About It).