There is such solace in the mere sight of water. It clothes us delicately in its blowing salt and scent, gossamer items that medicate the poor soul

The world begins anew with every birth, my father used to say. He forgot to say, with every death it ends. Or did not think he needed to. Because for a goodly part of his life he worked in a graveyard.

That is because at the close of the day the ship we sail in is the soul, not the body.

The human animal began as a mere wriggling thing in the ancient seas, struggling out onto land with many regrets. That is what brings us so full of longing to the sea.

Tears have a better character cried alone. Pity can sometimes be more wolf than dog.

And whatever my life had been up to that day, it was another life after that. And that is the gospel truth.

It is always worth itemising happiness, there is so much of the other thing in a life, you had better put down the markers for happiness while you can.