The Truth's Not Pretty Of Course. No

Children, They're The Same Everywhere. Greedy Little Creatures But The Best Listeners In The World - Any World. The Very Best Of All.

You Can Not Fully Read A Book Without Being Alone. But Through This Very Solitude You Become Intimately Involved With People Whom You Might Never Have Met Otherwise, Either Because They Have Been Dead For Centuries Or Because They Spoke Languages You Cannot Understand. And, Nonetheless, They Have Become Your Closest Friends, Your Wisest Advisors, The Wizards That Hypnotize You, The Lovers You Have Always Dreamed Of. -antonio Munoz Molinas, "the Power Of The Pen

Who Are You?' Mo Looked At The White Women. Then He Looked At Dustfinger's Still Face. Guess.' The Bird Ruffled Up Its Golden Feathers, And Mo Saw That The Mark On Its Breast Was Blood. You Are Death.' Mo Felt The Word Heavy On His Tongue. Could Any Word Be Heavier?

Quite Suddenly Meggie Felt Fear Rise In Her Like Black Brackish Water, She Felt Lost, Terribly Lost, She Felt It In Every Part Of Her. She Didn't Belong Here! What Had She Done?

Please," She Whispered As She Opened The Book, "please Get Me Out Of Here Just For An Hour Or So, Please Take Me Far, Far Away