Imagination Is A Good Horse To Carry

The Little Boy Nodded At The Peony And The Peony Seemed To Nod Back. The Little Boy Was Neat, Clean And Pretty. The Peony Was Unchaste, Dishevelled As Peonies Must Be, And At The Height Of Its Beauty.(...) Every Hour Is Filled With Such Moments, Big With Significance For Someone.

You're All Mad For Words. Words Are Just Farts From A Lot Of Fools Who Have Swallowed Too Many Books. Give Me Things!

I Think Of The Author As Somebody Who Goes Into The Marketplace And Puts Down His Rug And Says, 'i Will Tell You A Story' And Then He Passes The Hat.

Childhood May Have Periods Of Great Happiness, But It Also Has Times That Must Simply Be Endured. Childhood At Its Best Is A Form Of Slavery Tempered By Affection.

Imagination Is A Good Horse To Carry You Over The Ground - Not A Flying Carpet To Set You Free From Probability.