Life is better when there are gods and demigods and spirits and
mythical landscapes to explore. People throw the wonderbaby out with
the fearwater of demonic possession. They prefer to get the inoculation
of fact, the needles of analysis, and trowel over the moodswings like
the wet concrete of a new sidewalk.

But moodswings are moonswings, wings that hoist you above the
Moon. Flying onto the rapturestars on the mood's wings. The
rapturestars have been captured by the Moon's gravity — now and then
they rupture in starquakes, but people still build vacation houses
right on them.