“Shine and shimmer my Harvest Moon,illuminate the shadows in the sky.”

“Sulphurous wind gusted in his wake; the dust of the street swirled and the folds of his black coat flapped against his thin body.”

“The stars sparkled above the mist shrouded tents and caravans of the carnival. The night crackled with an odd vibration, as if a veil of peculiarity settled over the company.”

“I look at the others, simpering courtiers and visiting dignitaries, all unsuspecting of what is to come. A merciful man should spare them, but I had mercy cut out of me at a young age.”

“Sometimes, when you're deep in the countryside, you meet three girls, walking along the hill tracks in the dusk, spinning. They each have a spindle, and on to these they are spinning their wool, milk-white, like the moonlight. In fact, it is the moonlight, the moon itself, which is why they don't carry a distaff. They're not Fates, or anything terrible; they don't affect the lives of men; all they have to do is to see that the world gets its hours of darkness, and they do this by spinning the moon down out of the sky. Night after night, you can see the moon getting less and less, the ball of light waning, while it grown on the spindles of the maidens. Then, at length, the moon is gone, and the world has darkness, and rest..... ...on the darkest night, the maidens take their spindles down to the sea, to wash their wool. And the wool slips from the spindles into the water, and unravels in long ripples of light from the shore to the horizon, and there is the moon again, rising above the sea....Only when all the wool is washed, and wound again into a white ball in the sky, can the moon-spinners start their work once more....”

“Sometimes bravery is just getting on with things.”

“Every life has death and every light has shadow. Be content to stand in the light and let the shadow fall where it will.”