For to sit in a room full of books, and remember the stories they told you, and to know precisely where each one is located and what was happening in your life at time or where you were when you first read it is the languid and distilled pleasure of the connoisseur.
StingEvery ripple on the ocean, every leaf on every tree, every sand dune in the desert, every power we never see.
StingThe compass spins between heaven and hell, let your soul be your pilot, let your soul guide you.
StingI see music as one language. If one musical form eats its own tail, it dies. So it needs to be a mongrel, it needs to be hybridised.
Sting