The world is unkind to the shoeless and frolicsome.

A train will bring you back to the place you came from, but it will not return you home.

Woe to he who checkmates his opponents at last, only to discover they have been playing cribbage.

Love is the same as being lost,' says Jacques to the dark. 'Except you don't care that you're lost.

I was to be buried inside my own creation, the better to keep its secrets. I will not tell you more, for your sake. But if you ask, I will answer.

The world is unkind to the shoeless and frolicsome.

Could a dream kill a man? Could it strangle him where he sat sleeping?