It's Risky To Talk About One's Most

‎''just Think, Never To Be Glad Or Disappointed. Never To Like Anyone And Get Cross At Him And Forgive Him. Never To Sleep Or Feel Cold, Never To Make A Mistake And Have A Stomach-ache And Be Cured From It, Never To Have A Birthday Party, Drink Beer, And Have A Bad Conscience... How Terrible.

There Are Those Who Stay At Home And Those Who Go Away, And It Has Always Been So. Everyone Can Choose For Himself, But He Must Choose While There Is Still Time And Never Change His Mind.

One Summer Morning At Sunrise A Long Time Ago I Met A Little Girl With A Book Under Her Arm. I Asked Her Why She Was Out So Early And She Answered That There Were Too Many Books And Far Too Little Time. And There She Was Absolutely Right.

Before We Left, Grandmother Talked A Lot About The Arctic Night We Would Fly Through. 'isn't It A Mystical Word, "arctic"? Pure And Quite Hard. And Meridians. Isn't That Pretty? We're Going To Fly Along Them, Faster Than The Light Can Follow Us... Time Won't Be Able To Catch Us.

Sophia And Grandmother Sat Down By The Shore To Discuss The Matter Further. It Was A Pretty Day, And The Sea Was Running A Long, Windless Swell. It Was On Days Just Like This--dog Days--that Boats Went Sailing Off All By Themselves. Large, Alien Objects Made Their Way In From Sea, Certain Things Sank And Others Rose, Milk Soured, And Dragonflies Danced In Desperation. Lizards Were Not Afraid. When The Moon Came Up, Red Spiders Mated On Uninhabited Skerries, Where The Rock Became An Unbroken Carpet Of Tiny, Ecstatic Spiders.