My mouth is full of decayed teeth and my soul of decayed ambitions.
Save the trees of Ireland for the future men of Ireland on the fair hills of Eire, O.
God made food; the devil the cooks.
What is better than to sit at the end of the day and drink wine with friends, or substitutes for friends?
Ineluctable modality of the visible; at least that if no more, thought through my eyes. Signatures of all things I am here to read.
His heart danced upon her movements like a cork upon a tide. He heard what her eyes said to him from beneath their cowl and knew that in some dim past, whether in life or revery, he had heard their tale before.