I have left my book, I have left my room, For I heard you singing Through the gloom.

What birds were they? (...) He listened to the cries: like the squeak of mice be- hind the wainscot : a shrill twofold note. But the notes were long and shrill and whirring, unlike the cry of vermin, falling a third or a fourth and trilled as the flying beaks clove the air. Their cry was shrill and clear and fine and falling like threads of silken light unwound from whirring spools.

You forget that the kingdom of heaven suffers violence: and the kingdom of heaven is like a woman.

Fall if you will, but rise you must.

There's no friends like the old friends.

What did that mean, to kiss? You put your face up like that to say goodnight and then his mother put her face down. That was to kiss. His mother put her lips on his cheek; her lips were soft and they wetted his cheek; and they made a tiny little noise: kiss. Why did people do that with their two faces?

My mouth is full of decayed teeth and my soul of decayed ambitions.