It Can Be Hard To Write A

When I'm All Grown Up, Come What May, I'll Build A Boat To Carry Me Away

There Was Some Sadness In How That Could Happen, Falling Out Of Love With Something That Had Shaped You. Or Even People Who Had.

It Is Always Difficult, Even With The Best Will In The World, To Look Back A Long Way And See Anything Resembling The Truth.

We Worship…the Powers That Speak To Our Souls, If It Seems They Do. We Do So Knowing There Is More To The World, And The Half-world, And Perhaps Worlds Beyond, Than We Can Grasp. We Always Knew That. We Can’t Even Stop Children From Dying, How Would We Presume To Understand The Truth Of Things? Behind Things? Does The Presence Of One Power Deny Another? [p. 176]

She Was Owner And Captive, Both, Of A Bitterly Divided Heart.