Not that believing such things has anything to do with whether they are true. You see that, don't you?

I'm clearer now in what I want to say, and I know better how to say just that.

The old man began to sing. His voice was very lovely and obviously a part of something that the world had disposed of in its haste, evidence of a grander, kinder past.

We tire differently if we love or love not.

In searching for a way out of my own troubles, I had found my way into the troubles of others, some long gone, and now I was trying to find my way back out, through their troubles, as if we human beings can ever learn from one another.

I have a very basic notion of the structure the book might have - that's mostly it. The rest is luck and happenstance.

As far as ideas about book design: I have plenty. But I also try and let people do their jobs.