You are much larger than anything you encounter while you sleep. Everything that happens in dream takes place on a small stage in a corner of your mind.

Fairytales teach children that the world is fraught with danger, including life-threatening danger; but by being clever (always), honest (as a rule, but with common-sense exceptions), courteous (especially to the elderly, no matter their apparent social station), and kind (to anyone in obvious need), even a child can succeed where those who seem more qualified have failed.And this precisely what children most need to hear.To let them go on believing that the world is safe, that they will be provided for and achieve worthwhile things even if they remain stupid, shirk integrity, despise courtesy, and act only from self-interest, that they ought to rely on those stronger, smarter, and more able to solve their problems, would be the gravest disservice: to them, and to society as a whole.-On the Supposed Unsuitability of Fairytales for Children

The great risk of living is that we might not survive it.

Grief is always sudden as winter, no matter how long the autumn.

I have lain long here in your mind, longer than any nightmare has before me. I have sunk my roots into your worst imaginings and feasted on your memories. I know you, child.

Sooner or later, everybody dreams of other worlds.

Death breached the silence first. 'Mortals are always calling for me,' he said, 'Especially mortals whose suffering is very great, and especially mortals whose suffering is of their own making, and especially mortals who have never known suffering.

Here march the eaters of earth, the swallowers of rain.

There you go again, declaring the exact inverse of your experience. You human pups are so full of the things you're sure of. Sit down and listen for a change.

The November evening had a bite; it nibbled not-quite-gently at her cheeks and ears. In Virginia the late autumn was a lover, still, but a dangerous one.

Oceans recede and coastlines wither and crack. Nations lapse; others soon swagger in their places. Mountains crumble to dust, rains vanish into the sea, winds return whence they came, and every city men build has but a jumble of bones for its foundation. What is your need to me? I am the Watcher in the Dark.

Just because you believe in fairies doesn't mean you have to believe everything they say!-Petra Godfellow

Hardly has the universe stretched its wings to spanWhen it gathers to egg once more