Some days in late August at home are like this, the air thin and eager like this, with something in it sad and nostalgic and familiar.
William FaulknerThat which is destroying the Church is not the outward groping of those within it nor the inward groping of those without, but the professionals who control it and who have removed the bells from its steeples.
William FaulknerSo vast, so limitless in capacity is man's imagination to disperse and burn away the rubble-dross of fact and probability, leaving only truth and dream.
William Faulkner