Esse Quam Videri," Celia Says. "to Be,

I Find I Think Of Myself Not As A Writer So Much As Someone Who Provides A Gateway, A Tangential Route For Readers To Reach The Circus. To Visit The Circus Again, If Only In Their Minds, When They Are Unable To Attend It Physically. I Relay It Through Printed Words On Crumpled Newsprint, Words That They Can Read Again And Again, Returning To The Circus Whenever They Wish, Regardless Of Time Of Day Or Physical Location. Transporting Them At Will. When Put That Way, It Sounds Rather Like Magic, Doesn't It? P.369

Before You Leave, The Fortune Teller Reminds You That The Future Is Never Set In Stone.

Is Magic Not Enough To Live For?

It’s Said That All Hallows’ Eve Is One Of The Nights When The Veil Between The Worlds Is Thin - And Whether You Believe In Such Things Or Not, Those Roaming Spirits Probably Believe In You, Or At Least Acknowledge Your Existence, Considering That It Used To Be Their Own. Even The Air Feels Different On Halloween, Autumn-crisp And Bright.

I Tried To Explain As Much As I Could," Poppet Says. "i Think I Made An Analogy About Cake." "well, That Must Have Worked," Widget Says. "who Doesn't Like A Good Cake Analogy?