To Be Rather Than To Seem.

I Find I Think Of Myself Not As A Writer So Much As Someone Who Provides A Gateway, A Tangential Route For Readers To Reach The Circus. To Visit The Circus Again, If Only In Their Minds, When They Are Unable To Attend It Physically. I Relay It Through Printed Words On Crumpled Newsprint, Words That They Can Read Again And Again, Returning To The Circus Whenever They Wish, Regardless Of Time Of Day Or Physical Location. Transporting Them At Will. When Put That Way, It Sounds Rather Like Magic, Doesn't It? P.369

You May Tell A Tale That Takes Up Residence In Someone's Soul

...have A Theory That She Is In Love With The Dream Of Someone And Not An Actual Person.

Secrets Have Power, And That Power Diminishes When They Are Shared, So They Are Best Kept And Kept Well. Sharing Secrets, Real Secrets, Important Ones, With Even One Other Person, Will Change Them.

Something About The Circus Stirs Their Souls, And They Ache For It When It Is Absent.