I Doubt We Will Ever Be Forgiven.

In The Dark That Followed - Lucy Said; "where I Was Born, The Trees Were Always In The Sun. And I Left That Place Because It Was Intolerant Of Rain. Now, We Are Here In A Place Where There Are No Trees And There Is Only Rain. And I Intend To Leave This Place - Because It Is Intolerant Of Light. Somewhere - There Must Be Somewhere Where Darkness And Light Are Reconciled. So I Am Starting A Rumour, Here And Now, Of Yet Another World. I Don't Know When It Will Present Itself - I Don't Know Where It Will Be. But - As With All Those Other Worlds Now Past When It Is Ready, I Intend To Go There.

Time Is Light, Time Is Dark. You Either Dance, Or You Fall.

The Spaces Between The Perceiver And The Thing Perceived Can [...] Be Closed With A Shout Of Recognition.

All Of This Happened A Long Time Ago. But Not So Long Ago That Everyone Who Played A Part In It Is Dead. Some Can Still Be Met In Dark Old Rooms With Nurses In Attendance.

Literature Was Intended To Be Dangerous. Art Was Meant To Be Dangerous. Ideas Were Nothing If They Were Not Dangerous.