All my life I have lived and behaved very much like the sandpiper - just running down the edges of different countries and continents, 'looking for something'.
The whole shadow of Man is only as big as his hat.
The art of losing isn't hard to master; so many things seem filled with the intent to be lost that their loss is no disaster.
The pigs stuck out their little feet and snored.
The armored cars of dreams, contrived to let us do so many a dangerous thing.
What childishness is it that while there's breath of life in our bodies, we are determined to rush to see the sun the other way around?
