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Swiss
&
American
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Author
June 13, 1993
Swiss
&
American
-
Author
June 13, 1993
Feathers fell from the sky. Like black snow, they drifted onto an old city called Bath.
Stefan Bachmann
But you will not spare a drop of pity because I am rich? We have death in our gilded courts, too. We have disease and cruelty, and not a breath of air or freedom. You cannot say our lives are easy, any more than I can say yours is. They are lives, and so they are HORRID!
Stefan Bachmann
There's this special talent that humans have that they can be unhappy no matter where they are. But humans have another special talent: We can be happy almost anywhere, too. We can be happy because we're not alone.
Stefan Bachmann
Her voice was loud and cheerful, the way it was when nothing was well and she was determined not to show it.
Stefan Bachmann
The faery lady looked at Hettie curiously from beneath her wig. "You know..." she said, very softly. "All I wanted was that you would be my friend. That isn't very much to ask, is it? Doesn't everyone in the Smoke Lands have a friend? Doesn't everyone have someone?" She smiled pitifully and looked away. "I wanted a little person who would be mine, because no one else is. Life is so lonely when one lives as long as we do, in such a horrible, horrible house. But you never wanted to be my friend. You never, ever did.
Stefan Bachmann
He wanted a faery. More than anything else in the world. He had already imagined exactly how it should happen. He would set up the invitation, and the next day there would be a petal-winged pisky clinging to the top of his bedpost. It would have a foolish grin on its face, and large ears, and it wouldn’t notice at all that Bartholomew was small and ugly and different from everyone else. But no. Mother had to ruin everything.
Stefan Bachmann
…it struck Mr. Jelliby that a wide-eyed faery was not a surprised faery. It was an angry, angry faery.
Stefan Bachmann