I think my father would have liked to have been an artist, actually. But I think he didn't quite have perhaps the drive or, I don't know, I mean he had a family to bring up I suppose.
I can remember the first time I had to go to sleep. Mom said, Steven, time to go to sleep. I said, But I don't know how. She said, It's real easy. Just go down to the end of tired and hang a left. So I went down to the end of tired, and just out of curiosity I hung a right. My mother was there, and she said I thought I told you to go to sleep.
He was walking into Faerie, in search of a fallen star, with no idea how he would find the star, nor how to keep himself safe and whole as he tried. He looked back and fancied that he could see the lights of Wall behind him, wavering and glimmering as if in a heat-haze, but still inviting.