“the poet I saw once...but whose words have long beenin my mind, windows of invincible candles... ”

“Once, I was a poet, and, like all poets, I spent too long in the Kingdom of Dreams.”

“It drew aside the window-curtain and looked out; perhaps it saw dawn approaching, for, taking the candle, it retreated to the door. Just at my bedside, the figure stopped: the fiery eyes glared upon me-she thrust up her candle close to my face, and extinguished it under my eyes. I was aware her lurid visage flamed over mine, and I lost consciousness: for the second time in my life-only the second time-I became insensible from terror.”

“The weak grey light that serves as harbinger of red and golden dawn faintly lit my window. I fumbled for a candle, found and lit it, and by its little light saw that the rose floating in the bowl was dying. It had already lost most of its petals, which floated on the water like tiny, un-seaworthy boats, deserted for safer craft."Dear God," I said. "I must go back at once.”

“I have a feeling that once you live through something like this, you become a little bit invincible.”

“I serve the king of dreams and I do his bidding. But you are correct once I was a poet and like all poets I spent too long in the kingdom of dreams.”