Real things in the darkness seem no realer than dreams.
Old age is a disease from which there is no recovery but the old nun's recent attack had certainly been brought on chiefly by the fatigue of so much travelling.
Though the body moves, the soul may stay behind.
Beauty without colour seems somehow to belong to another world.
There is more here than meets the eye.
A night of endless dreams, inconsequent and wild, is this my life; none more worth telling than the rest.