The Dead Are Often Known

Books. They Are Lined Up On Shelves Or Stacked On A Table. There They Are Wrapped Up In There Jackets, Lines Of Neat Print On Nicely Bound Pages. They Look Like Such Orderly, Static Things. Then You, The Reader Come Along. You Open The Book Jacket, And It Can Be Like Opening The Gates To An Unknown City, Or Opening The Lid Of A Treasure Chest. You Read The First Word And You're Off On A Journy Of Exploration And Discovery.

Maybe We're All In Somebody's Dream. Maybe Everything's A Dream, And Nothing Else.

They Say That Shoulder Blades Are Where Your Wings Were, When You Were An Angel," She Said. "they Say They're Where Your Wings Will Grow Again One Day.

Sometimes We Just Have To Accept There Are Things We Can’t Know. Why Is Your Sister Ill? Why Did My Father Die?…sometimes We Think We Should Be Able To Know Everything. But We Can’t. We Have To Allow Ourselves To See What There Is To See, And We Have To Imagine.

Its Always Been The Case That Politicians Want Different Things From Children Than Good Educators Do. Good Educators Want Imaginative, Exploratory Beings, But Politicians Just Want Economic Units.