I feel ill,” [Howl] announced. “I’m going to bed, where I may die.
I can’t go on, I’ll go on.
You’re only young once, but you can be immature forever
Your mother won a special reward,” she told me, “because everyone had a head in her pictures. We all applauded.
Fiction is art and art is the triumph over chaos… to celebrate a world that lies spread out around us like a bewildering and stupendous dream.
When I walk, I walk with you. Where I go, you’re with me always.