Only The Ship Is Made Of Books,

I Am A Fan Of Magic And Fantasy, Particularly When It's Grounded In Reality.

Like Stepping Into A Fairy Tale Under A Curtain Of Stars.

Though I Have Seen A Great Deal Of The Sights, Traveled A Number Of The Available Paths, There Are Always Corners That Remain Unexplored, Doors That Remain Unopened.

The Funeral Is A Quiet One, Despite The Number Of Mourners Present. There Are No Sobs Or Flailing Handkerchiefs. There Is A Smattering Of Color Amongst The Sea Of Traditional Black. Even The Light Rain Cannot Push It Down Into The Realms Of Despair. It Rests Instead In A Space Of Thoughtful Melancholy.

Better To Have A Single Perfect Diamond Than A Sack Of Flawed Stones.