If There Were One More

Through The Loveliness And Power Of Her Dream World She Was Now, In Her Old Frock And Botched Shoes, Very Likely The Loveliest, Mightiest And Most Dangerous Person On Earth

Within Our Whole Universe The Story Only Has The Authority To Answer That Cry Of Heart Of Its Characters, That One Cry Of Heart Of Each Of Them: "who Am I?"

The Pleasure Of The True Dreamer Does Not Lie In The Substance Of The Dream, But In This: That There Things Happen Without Any Interference From His Side, And Altogether Outside His Control.

One Does Not Travel By Plane. One Is Merely Sent, Like A Parcel.

Your Own Self, Your Personality And Existence Are Reflected Within The Mind Of Each Of The People Whom You Meet, ... Into A Likeness, A Caricature Of Yourself, Which Still Lives On And Appears To Be, In Some Way, The Truth About You. Even A Flattering Picture Is... A Lie.