You Know A Great Many

She Always Did Like Tales Of Adventure-stories Full Of Brightness And Darkness. She Could Tell You The Names Of All King Arthur's Knights, And She Knew Everything About Beowulf And Grendel, The Ancient Gods And The Not-quite-so-ancient Heroes. She Liked Pirate Stories, Too, But Most Of All She Loved Books That Had At Least A Knight Or A Dragon Or A Fairy In Them. She Was Always On The Dragon's Side By The Way.

The Night Belongs To Beasts Of Prey, And Always Has. It's Easy To Forget That When You're Indoors, Protected By Light And Solid Walls.

No Prince Had Lived In Those Wretched Hovels, No Red-robed Bishops, Only Farmers And Laborers Whose Stories No One Had Written Down, And Now They Were Lost, Buried Under Wild Thyme And Fast Growing Spurge.

Why Would We Ever Want To Go Back When Your World Is So Accommodating With Your Telephones And Your Guns And What's That Sticky Stuff Called ...duct Tape.

A Book Always Keeps Something Of Its Owner Between Its Pages.