The pigs stuck out their little feet and snored.

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.

Hoping to live days of greater happiness, I forget that days of less happiness are passing by.

Ports are necessities, like postage stamps or soap, but they seldom seem to care what impressions they make.

I am overcome by my own amazing sloth...Can you please forgive me and believe that it is really because I want to do something well that I don't do it at all?

The pigs stuck out their little feet and snored.

Insomnia" perhaps she's a daytime sleeper.