Humor is emotional chaos remembered in tranquility. - James Thurber

These are the days of bootleg love.

All men kill the thing they hate, too, unless, of course, it kills them first.

If you should walk and wind and wander far enough on one of those afternoons in April when smoke goes down instead of up, and nearby things sound far away and far things near, you are more than likely to come at last to the enchanted forest that lies between the Moonstone Mines and Centaurs Mountain. You'll know the woods when you are still a long way off by virtue of a fragrance you can never quite forget and never quite remember.