Reading dreams. That's what started her walking down the road. Every day she'd walk a little further: a mile, and come home. One day she juts kept on.
And, when you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it.
Every one suspects himself of at least one of the cardinal virtues, and this is mine: I am one of the few honest people that I have ever known.
Books were safer than other people anyway.
I live in my dreams - that's what you sense. other people live in dreams, but not their own. That's the difference.
Everyone should have this...and perhaps, at the end, everyone does. Perhaps in their time of dying, everyone rises.
You're nobody's doorway but your own, and the only one who gets to tell you how your story ends is you.
Big Brother is watching you.