Short stories do not say this happened and this happened and this happened. They are a microcosm and a magnification rather than a linear progression.

Impatience is not the least of your faults, Malik, it is a kind of greed and someday it may see you undone.

Short stories do not say this happened and this happened and this happened. They are a microcosm and a magnification rather than a linear progression.

Never trust a mirror,' his mother had told him. 'They never tell the truth unless you make them.

The worst predijudice is unknowing. We think we treat others as equals, but, in our deepest heart, we regard ourselves as superior. In part, this is because we are, in ways, powerful. But that does not make the race of humans (funanga) better than that of the dog or equine.

Cracks especially. You have to be careful of the cracks.. Sometimes they are disguised as something else. A doorway, or a smile or even a winking eye. And if you fall through them, you never know were you will end up.

The mirror had broken into millions of pieces and the wind blew them all over the world. If a person got a speck in their eye, the person would only see the ugly side of things from then on, but if a piece got in their blood and it reached their heart, it would freeze into a solid block of ice and they couldn't feel anything anymore