There was a great mob of the Oracle’s Brotherhood, dancing in their ribbons, chanting and shouting in a… — Sheri S. Tepper

I have in recent years often reflected upon memory. One takes it so for granted. One remembers with such facile infallibility. And one finds with such shock – at least it was a shock to me – that memory isn’t true.

Sometimes there is such crowding that there is irritation, and this makes fear or anger; and following fear comes meetings of councils to make regulations; and following regulations is further irritation at the laws that are made.

“I don’t know the sensible plant,” said Cat wonderingly. “Where may it be found?”

“It cannot be found,” the Gardener replied. “It is extinct.”