To whom shall I offer this book, young and sprightly,Neat, polished, wide-margined, and finished politely?To you, my Cornelius, whose learning pedantic,Has dared to set forth in three volumes giganticThe history of ages—ye gods, what a labor!—And still to enjoy the small wit of a neighbor.A man who can be light and learned at once, sir,By life's subtle logic is far from a dunce, sir.So take my small book—if it meet with your favor.The passing of years cannot dull its sweet savor.

To all my librarian friends, champions of books, true magicians in the House of Life. Without you, this writer would be lost in the Dust.

To Senor Sempere, the best friend a book could ever have: you opened the doors to the world for me and showed me how to go through them.

Do not allow your happiness to be controlled by the thoughts of others. People are happy for you one minute and then the next they are looking down their noses at you. You have to find within yourself the kind of happiness that withstands the ups and downs of life. No one should have the power to limit or repress your happiness.

To my father, who told me the stories that matter. To my mother, who taught me to remember them.

For this taboo, retribution would soon knock my doorBut, I still wouldn't let that hold my feet to move on anymore.