Perhaps It Is A Human Thing, To

...my Friend, There Are Some Things That I Cannot Tell You. Some I Will Tell You In Time; Some, Others Will Tell You; Some You May Never Know, Or You May Be The First To Find The Answers.

It Doesn't Matter If I'm Only To Be Gone Four Days, As In This Case; I Take Six Months' Supply Of Reading Material Everywhere. Anyone Who Needs Further Explication Of This Eccentricity Can Find It Usefully Set Out In The First Pages Of W. Somerset Maugham's Story "the Book-bag.

Why Do You Tell Me... So Much?" Luthe Considered Her. "i Tell You... Some You Need To Know, And Some You Have Earned The Right To Know, And Some It Won't Hurt You To Know--" He Stopped.... "some Things I Tell You Only Because I Wish To Tell Them To You.

One Day" She Told Them, "when You Have Retired, You Will Go To Live With A Family Who Will Love You For Your Beauty And Nothing More, And If You're Very Lucky There Will Be Children, And The Children Will Pet You And Pet You And Pet You. Ossin Has A List, I Think, Of Such Children; He Sends His Hunting-staff Out During The Months They Are Not Needed For That Work, To Look For Them, And Add Names To The List." The Fleethounds Stared Back At Her With Their Enormous Dark Liquid Eyes, And Believed Every Word.

What I Write, If You Have To Label It, Is Crossover, And I Think That Much Of The Stuff That Is Called Children's Or Ya Is In Fact Crossover And Is Equally Valid For Anyone Who Likes To Read Fantasy.