I Also Love Disney, And Will Defend

We Need The Expressive Arts, The Ancient Scribes, The Storytellers, The Priests.

He Sat By Her, Watching Every Gesture She Made, As If He Would Paint Her Portrait Afterward.

There Was No Violence, No Speed. It Moved To The Rhythm Of An Elder Dance, Putting All The Rituals Of The World To Shame. Black, Silver, Gold And Moon-opal, Night And Sea, Fire, Earth, Air And Water.

I Held Out My Book. It Was Precious To Me, As Were All The Things I'd Written; Even Where I Despised Their Inadequacy There Was Not One I Would Disown. Each Tore Its Way From My Entrails. Each Had Shortened My Life, Killed Me With Its Own Special Little Death.

If You Run Away From Trouble, It Always Follows.' Rather My Impression, Too. Though That Never Stopped Me Trying.