There is indeed no such thing in life as absolute darkness; one's eyes revolt and hasten to fill the vacuum by floating in sparks, dream patterns, figures whimsical and figures grotesque, shifting and clad in complementary colors, to appease the indignant cups and rods of the retina.
Our bodies are apt to be our autobiographies.
Love is only chatter, friends are all that matter.
Style is doing things not in any way but in the best way.
A woman and a mouse, they carry a tale wherever they go.
Imagination is like a lofty building reared to meet the sky; whereas fancy is a balloon that soars at the wind's will.