The Night That Seemed Endless Hours Before

The Fact That People Are Already Reading And Loving Something I Wrote Is Still Hard To Believe.

Old Stories Have A Habit Of Being Told And Retold And Changed. Each Subsequent Storyteller Puts His Or Her Mark Upon It. Whatever Truth The Story Once Had Is Buried In Bias And Embellishment. The Reasons Do Not Matter As Much As The Story Itself.

We Must Put Effort And Energy Into Anything We Wish To Change.

Though I Have Seen A Great Deal Of The Sights, Traveled A Number Of The Available Paths, There Are Always Corners That Remain Unexplored, Doors That Remain Unopened.

Better To Have A Single Perfect Diamond Than A Sack Of Flawed Stones.