Sublime

‘That means mischief, eh?’ said Mr Hawley. ‘He’s got the freak of being a popular man now, after dangling about like a stray tortoise.

So here we have two ideas: the wood and the path. The wood, or the forest if you like, is a wild space. It’s an unstructured space. It’s a space full of possibilities. It’s a space where anything can happen

if once he should permit the distracting thought of Lucy to dispute with Isabel's the pervading possession of his soul?

for a wood is a palace with a million corridors that cross each other everywhere.

Ghost [Beneath] Swear.

'When I wos first pitched neck and crop into the world, to play at leap-frog with its troubles,'

Pour le Petit Chaperon rouge, le monde réel est celui où les loups parlent.

“Mad,” said the Weasel. Bravd, galloping along a few feet away, nodded. “All wizards get like that,” he said. “It’s the quicksilver fumes. Rots their brains. Mushrooms, too.”

The reason is that it is one thing to believe in witches, and quite another to believe in witch–smellers.