Reasons get forgotten.

Say the sea. Say the sea. Say the sea. So that perhaps a drop of that magic may wander through time, and something might find it, and save it before it disappears forever. Say the sea. Because it's what we have left. Because faced by the sea, we without crosses, without magic, we must still have a weapon, something, so as not to die in silence, that's all.

The last light, in the last window, went out. Only the unstoppable machine of the sea still tears away at the silence with the cyclical explosion of nocturnal waves, distant memories of sleepwalking storms and the shipwrecks of dream.

There is nothing that can, in the dark become true

Reasons get forgotten.

This is the seashore. Neither land nor sea. It’s a place that does not exist.

It’s a strange grief…to die of nostalgia for something you never lived.