If swans weren't real myths'd make up.
Lunatics are writers whose works write them.
Oh, bein' young ain't easy 'cos ev'rythin' you're puzzlin'n'anxin' you're puzzlin'n'anxin' it for the first time.
Many children are natural fantasists, I think, perhaps because their imaginations have yet to be clobbered into submission by experience.
Reality is the page. Life is the word.
It's a small world. It keeps recrossing itself.