God, He Thought, Her Eyes

It Was Anyway All A Long Time Ago; The World, We Know Now, Is As It Is And Not Different; If There Was Ever A Time When There Were Passages, Doors, The Borders Open And Many Crossing, That Time Is Not Now. The World Is Older Than It Was. Even The Weather Isn’t As We Remember It Clearly Once Being; Never Lately Does There Come A Summer Day Such As We Remember, Never Clouds As White As That, Never Grass As Odorous Or Shade As Deep And Full Of Promise As We Remember They Can Be, As Once Upon A Time They Were.

Well, Do You Do That Consciously?" Daily Alice Asked, Only Partly Of Cloud. "do What?" Cloud Said. "grow Up? No. Well. In A Sense. You See It's Inevitable, Or Refuse To. You Greet It Or Don't -- Take It In Trade, Maybe, For All You're Going To Lose Anyway. Or You Can Refuse, And Have What You've Got To Lose Snatched From You, And Never Take Payment -- Never See A Trade Is Possible.

Learning To Decipher Words Had Only Added To The Pleasures Of Holding Spines And Turning Pages, Measuring The Journey To The End With A Thumb-riffle, Poring Over Frontispieces. Books! Opening With A Crackle Of Old Glue, Releasing Perfume; Closing With A Solid Thump.

The Things That Make Us Happy Make Us Wise.

Stories Last Longer: But Only By Becoming Only Stories.