Words In Order

Beware; for I am fearless, and therefore powerful.

It is true, we shall be monsters, cut off from all the world; but on that account we shall be more attached to one another.

When I looked around I saw and heard of none like me. Was I, then, a monster, a blot upon the earth, from which all men fled and whom all men disowned?

Nought may endure but mutability!

Nothing contributes so much to tranquillise the mind as a steady purpose.

How very disappointing truth is sometimes.

It's all right to forget, you know, he said. It's good to. In fact, we have to forget things sometimes. Forgetting it is imprtant. We do it on purpose. It means we get a bit of a rest. Are you listening? We have to forget. Or we'd never sleep ever again.

It was nothing less than magic. Who needs a passport? Who am I? Where am I? What am I? I'm reading.

There's always, there'll always be, more story. That's what story is.

Here's an old story so new that it's still in the middle of happening.

Time travel is real, Daniel said. We do it all the time. Moment to moment, minute to minute.

The power of the lie, Daniel said. Always seductive to the powerless.

Overnight, like a girl in a myth being hunted by a god who's determined to have his way with her, she has altered herself, remade herself so she can't be had by anyone.

The days are still warm, the air in the shadows sharper. The nights are sooner, chillier, the light a little less each time.

Once it would have been a year's worth of news. But news right now is like a flock of speeded-up sheep running off the side of a cliff.

This isn't fiction, the man says. This is the Post Office.

Is there never any escaping the junkshop of the self?