Footsteps in the snow suggest where you have been, point to where you were going: but when they suddenly vanish, never dismiss the possibility of flight.

Blood in the water I sing, and one who shed it: deadliest hunger I sing, and one who fed it- weaving the ancient-most tale of the Sea's sending: singing the tragedy, singing the joy unending This is our shame- this is the whole Ocean's glory: this is the Song of the Twelve. Hark to the story! Hearken, and bring it to pass: swift lest the sorrow long ago laid to it's rest devour us tomarrow!

She tried to walk softly and wished the trees wouldn't stare at her so.

A little science. A little magic. A little chicken soup.

Those who don't know the mistakes of the past won't be able to enjoy it when they make them again in the future.

My first generation of young readers now have not only children, but some of them have grandchildren to whom they're introducing their old passion.

"Don't be afraid to make corrections," Picchu said. "Don't be afraid to lend a hand." She fell silent, seeming to think for a moment. "And don't look down."