In those myths of the world long sought, stuff of poems, of the path, a man at a door outlined from light within, sometimes by the lantern at his side, waves a gold lantern high, signpost of those travelers passing in and out of life alone. You never see groups on these trails. It is not an entrance to another world. As though one were not enough. The voyagers, the walkers, the seekers are all dolls! It is a doll world! That's why the big sign is lit over the door. NEVER GIVE UP ON A DOLL!
Come one.
Come all.
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