They were watching, out there past men's knowing, where stars are drowning and whales ferry their vast souls through the black and seamless sea.

Maybe. Anyway, some men get what they want. No man. Or perhaps only briefly so as to lose it. Or perhaps only to prove to the dreamer that the world of his longing made real is no longer that world at all.

Hard weather, says the old man. So let it be. Wrap me in the weathers of the earth, I will be hard and hard. My face will wash rain like the stones.

In dreams we stand in this great democracy of the possible and there we are right pilgrims indeed. There we go forth to meet what we shall meet.

Word gets around when the circus comes to town, don't it?

Just take me with you. Please. I cant. Please, Papa. I cant. I cant hold my son dead in my arms. I thought I could but I cant.

There was someone there and they had been there. There was no one there. There was someone there and they had been there and they had not left but there was no one there.