It's lovely. I hate it.

Coaches in my upbringing that made a difference.

Hunt among these hills for the next moon$$$ so he has told me.

Now Rann the Kite brings home the night.

For Kim did nothing with an immense success.

I must go in$$$ the fog is rising.

They wanted to have a good time$$$ but they were like children playing in the street; they could see one after another of them being killed--run over$$$ maimed$$$ destroyed--but they continued to play anyhow.

There is no route out of the maze. The maze shifts as you move through it$$$ because it is alive.

A weird time in which we are alive. We can travel anywhere we want$$$ even to other planets. And for what? To sit day after day$$$ declining in morale and hope.

He started keeping a journal - had been$$$ in fact$$$ secretly doing so for some time: the furtive act of a deranged person.