Erin Morgenstern

A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world.

—OSCAR WILDE, 1888

It would not have been my choice for her, but a child should not have their choices dictated for them.

He tells himself that it is not a bad life. That there is nothing wrong with being a farmer.

But still, the discontent remains. Even the ground beneath his feet feels unsatisfying to his boots.

The circus arrives without warning.

—friedrick thiessen, 1892

A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world.

—friedrick thiessen, 1892

A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world.

But you built me dreams instead,” Celia says, looking up at him. “And I built you tents you hardly ever see. I have had so much of you

I have had so much of you around me always and I have been unable to give you anything in return that you can keep.”

Someone needs to tell those tales. When the battles are fought and won and lost, when the pirates find their treasures and the dragons eat their foes for breakfast with a nice cup of Lapsang souchong, someone needs to tell their bits of overlapping

narrative. There’s magic in that. It’s in the listener, and for each and every ear it will be different, and it will affect them in ways they can never predict. From the mundane to the profound. You may tell a tale that takes up residence in someone’s soul, becomes their blood and self and purpose. That tale will move them and drive them and who knows what they might do because of it, because of your words.