I Have The World's Best Job. I

Little Kids' Minds Are Very, Very Strong. They Bend. There's A Lot Of Tensile Strength And They Don't Break. We Start Our Kids Off On Things Like "hansel And Gretel," Which Features Child Abandonment, Kidnapping, Attempted Murder, Forcible Detention, Cannibalism, And Finally Murder By Cremation. And The Kids Love It.

It's Best To Have Your Tools With You. If You Don't, You're Apt To Find Something You Didn't Expect And Get Discouraged.

I Realized The Shells Were Talking In A Voice I Recognized. I Should Have; It Was My Own. Had I Always Known That? I Suppose I Had. On Some Level, Unless We're Mad, I Think Most Of Us Know The Various Voices Of Our Own Imaginations. And Of Our Memories, Of Course. They Have Voices, Too. Ask Anyone Who Has Ever Lost A Limb Or A Child Or A Long-cherished Dream. Ask Anyone Who Blames Himself For A Bad Decision, Usually Made In A Raw Instant (an Instant That Is Most Commonly Red). Our Memories Have Voices, Too. Often Sad Ones That Clamor Like Raised Arms In The Dark.

People With A High Tolerance For Boredom Can Get A Lot Of Thinking Done.

God Turned Out To Be A Bunch Of Bad Little Kids Playing Interstellar Xbox. Isn't That Funny?