I sang out the words unflinchingly though, as I stomped around the toadstool in clouds of church-basement dust, with a damp Gnome hand clutched in each of mine.

“In my dreams of this city I am always lost.”

“There is no fool like an educated fool...”

“When I get out of here, if I'm ever able to set this down, in any form, even in…”

“The picture is of happiness, the story not. Happiness is a garden walled with g…”