Its A Very 18th-century Thing To Have

Image Of A Girl Holding A Blaster To A Twin’s Temple. “remember, Bi***. You Can’t Spell ‘danger’ Without Dna.” Blam.

We All Flee In Hope Of Finding Some Ground Of Security

We Are The Nation Of Dreams. We Are Seers. We Are Wizards. We Speak In Visions. Our Letters Are Like Flocks Of Doves, Released From Under Our Hats. We Have Only To Stretch Out Our Hand And Desire, And What We Wish For Settles Like A Kerchief In Our Palm. We Are A Race Of Sorcerers, Enchanters. We Are Atlantis. We Are The Wizard-isle Of Mu.

There Are Times When Friendship Feels Like Running Down A Hill Together As Fast As You Can, Jumping Over Things, Spinning Around, And You Don't Care Where You're Going, And You Don't Care Where You've Come From, Because All That Matters Is Speed, And The Hands Holding Your Hands.

I Eat Broccoli. I Think About The Plot. I Pace In Circles For Hours, Counter-clockwise, Listening To Music. I Try To Think Of One Detail In The Scene I'm About To Write That I'm Really Excited About Writing. Until I Can Come Up With That One Detail, I Pace.