Here even the various mind-pleasing blossoming flowers, and attractive shining supreme golden houses, have no inherently existent maker at all. They are set up through the power of thought. Through the power of conceptuality the world is established
"You Believe In A Book That Has Talking Animals, Wizards, Witches, Demons, Sticks Turning Into Snakes, Burning Bushes, Food Falling From The Sky, People Walking On Water, And All Sorts Of Magical, Absurd And Primitive Stories, And You Say That We Are The Ones That Need Help?"
The urge to create a fictional narrative is a mysterious one, and when an idea comes, the writer's sense of what a story wants to be is only vaguely visible through the penumbra of inspiration.