The world is a navy in an empty ocean.
Strangers are endearing because you don’t know them yet.
From whichever side I start, I think I am in an old place where others have been before me.
I travel, always arriving in the same place.
Some people complain there are too many people on earth, Some people complain about secret societies, Some people accuse others of not being able to wake up early. Almost all people complain about something.
Oblivion cures the old wounds.