Places Have Their Own Characters.

I Like Autumn. The Drama Of It; The Golden Lion Roaring Through The Back Door Of The Year, Shaking Its Mane Of Leaves. A Dangerous Time; Of Violent Rages And Deceptive Calm, Of Fireworks In The Pockets And Conkers In The Fist.

In Any Case, Fire Burns; That's Its Nature, And You Can't Expect To Change That. You Can Use It To Cook Your Meat Or To Burn Down Your Neighbor's House. And Is The Fire You Use For Cooking Any Different From The One You Use For Burning? And Does That Mean You Should Eat Your Supper Raw?" Maddy Shook Her Head, Still Puzzled. "so What You're Saying Is . . . I Shouldn't Play With Fire," She Said At Last. Of Course You Should," Said One-eye Gently. "but Don't Be Surprised If The Fire Plays Back.

It Isn't Just A Village. The Houses Aren't Just Places To Live. Everything Belongs To Everybody. Everyone Belongs To Everyone Else. Even A Single Person Can Make A Difference.

You Priests. You're All The Same. You Think Fasting Helps You Think About God, When Anyone Who Can Cook Would Tell You That Fasting Just Makes You Think About Food.

A Spider Brings Good Luck Before Midnight And Bad Luck After.