We All Have Our Dreams. May We

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 Must Suppose That Reading Wonderful Writers May, Inadvertently, Teach An Avid Reader A Great Deal -- Not Only About Life And Other Matters, But About How To Write. Therefore Doubtless I Have Benefited From Frequent Immersions In The Glowing Genius Of Others. It Would Be Nice To Think So. (i Do Actually Think So). But To Improve My Skills Will Never Be The Prompting Force Of My Reading -- That's Just Literary Lust.

As A Child, My Mother Told Me Lots Of Fairy Stories, Many Her Own Invention. She, Too, Tended To Reverse The Norm.

We All Have Our Dreams. May We Find Them, And God Have Mercy On Us When We Do.

Your Dreams Will Betray You. Go Nowhere On A Horse That Fades.