Gods die. And when they truly die they are unmourned and unremembered. Ideas are more difficult to kill than people, but they can be killed, in the end.

When I was very young, somebody - maybe it was a squirrel, they talk so much, or a magpie, or maybe a fishie - told me that Pan owned all this forest. Well, no…

All we have to believe with is our senses, the tools we use to perceive the world: our sight, our touch, our memory. If they lie to us, then nothing can be tru…

'The little folk dare anything', said his friend. 'And they talk a lot of nonsense. But they talks an awful lot of sense, as well. You listen to 'em at your pe…

Aujourd'hui maman est morte. Ou peut-etre hier, je ne sais pas.

Ye come and go incessant; we remain Safe in the hallowed quiets of the past; Be reverent, ye who flit and are forgot, Of faith so nobly realized as this.

Ah, no; the years, the years; Down their carved names the raindrop plows.