Wednesday, September 21, 2005

That red stuff, that's blood that is. Meant to be on the inside, it is. Bad sign if it's not on the inside, that's what I says.

You need help, matey. You and that there young lady. That red stuff, that's blood that is. Meant to be on the inside, it is. Bad sign if it's not on the inside, that's what I says. Hedgehog, SANDMAN #51: "A Tale of Two Cities" When a world ends, there's always something left over. A story, perhaps, or a vision, or a hope. This inn is a refuge, after the lights go out. For a while. The hostess of The Inn at the End of the Worlds, SANDMAN #51: "A Tale of Two Cities" "What's going on?" "We're telling stories. You just missed a really good one about a man who won November 1937 in a poker game." Brant and Charlene, in SANDMAN #51: "A Tale of Two Cities" If a city has a personality, maybe it also has a soul. Maybe it dreams. That is where I believe we have come. We are in the dreams of the city. That's why certain places hover on the brink of recognition; why we almost know where we are. SANDMAN #51: "A Tale of Two Cities" "If the city was dreaming," he told me, "then the city is asleep. And I do not fear cities sleeping, stretched out unconscious around their rivers and estuaries, like cats in the moonlight. Sleeping cities are tame and harmless things. What I fear," he said, "is that one day he cities will waken. That one day the cities will rise." SANDMAN #51: "A Tale of Two Cities" We of Faerie are of the wild magic. We are not creatures of spells and grimoires. We are spells, and we are written of in grimoires. SANDMAN #52: "Cluracan's Tale" So, like everyone else, I was staring out of one of the windows of the inn at the end of the words. Worlds. I meant worlds. Brant Tucker, in SANDMAN #56: "World's End" The words said over my father's body were hollow and dumb, and I couldn't find it in me to cry, not then. I knew I was watching the real thing here. There was true grief in each step they took across the sky, and they shouldered the casket as if they were shouldering the weight of the world. Brant Tucker, in SANDMAN #56: "World's End" She looked at me. Maybe she was trying to tell me something; I don't know. She probably didn't even know I was there. But I'll always love her. All my life. Brant Tucker, of Death, in SANDMAN #56: "World's End" It was like I knew her. Like she was my oldest, dearest friend. The kind of person you can tell anything to, no matter how bad, and they'll still love you, because they know you. Brant Tucker, of Death, in SANDMAN #56: "World's End" I'm Matthew. I'm the raven. Not a raven— the raven. That's one of the weird things about the Dreaming— it's a kind of one-raven-at-a- time sort of place. Matthew, in SANDMAN: "The Castle"