Night is the sleep of seven wax mothsDawn is the singing of five mermaidsNoon is the scratching of three field miceDusk is the shadow of a crow

If I breathe, what will my heart think?If I vomit, what will my soul think?

Many people pretend to be in thought, proving thought to be a beautiful thing. But the bald man doesn’t need a comb, the tiger doesn’t need weapons, the fool doesn’t need thought. The person with...