You Speak Of Destiny As

Lyra Learns To Her Great Cost That Fantasy Isn’t Enough. She Has Been Lying All Her Life, Telling Stories To People, Making Up Fantasies, And Suddenly She Comes To A Point Where That’s Not Enough. All She Can Do Is Tell The Truth. She Tells The Truth About Her Childhood, About The Experiences She Had In Oxford, And That Is What Saves Her. True Experience, Not Fantasy - Reality, Not Lies - Is What Saves Us In The End.

There's A Hunger For Stories In All Of Us, Adults Too. We Need Stories So Much That We're Even Willing To Read Bad Books To Get Them, If The Good Books Won't Supply Them.

As For What It's Against - The Story Is Against Those Who Pervert And Misuse Religion, Or Any Other Kind Of Doctrine With A Holy Book And A Priesthood And An Apparatus Of Power That Wields Unchallengeable Authority, In Order To Dominate And Suppress Human Freedoms.

Her Last Conscious Thought Was Disgust At Life; Her Senses Had Lied To Her. The World Was Not Made Of Energy And Delight But Of Foulness, Betrayal, And Lassitude. Living Was Hateful, And Death Was No Better, And From End To End Of The Universe This Was The First And Last And Only Truth.

After Modernism, Things Changed. Indeed, Modernism Sometimes Seems To Me Like An Equivalent Of The Fall. Remember, The First Thing Adam And Eve Did When They Ate The Fruit Was To Discover That They Had No Clothes On. They Were Embarrassed. Embarrassment Was The First Consequence Of The Fall. And Embarrassment Was The First Literary Consequence Of This Modernist Discovery Of The Surface. "am I Telling A Story? Oh My God, This Is Terrible. I Must Stop Telling A Story And Focus On The Minute Gradations Of Consciousness As They Filter Through Somebody's.