In my dream, it was the tongue of what is, and anything spoken in it becomes real, because nothing said in that language can be a lie. It is the most basic building brick of everything.

People populate the darkness; with ghosts, with gods, with electrons, with tales.

But how can you walk away from something and still come back to it?

I have world class photographic red-eye pretty much all the time. As a general rule, if it's taken with a flash, I look like I am possessed by the blazing forces of darkness, at least in the eye department.

Stories are made up by people who make them up. If they work, they get retold. There's the magic of it.

I would not wish to marry someone who had already been married. It would be,' she opined, 'like having someone else break in one's own pony.

On the whole, stories don't write themselves.