Silence Sat In The Taxi,

Meetings That Do Not Come Off Keep A Character Of Their Own. They Stay As They Were Projected.

I Pity People Who Do Not Care For Society. They Are Poorer For The Oblation They Do Not Make.

Karen, Her Elbows Folded On The Deck-rail, Wanted To Share With Someone The Pleasure In Being Alone: This Is The Paradox Of Any Happy Solitude. She Had Never Landed At Cork, So This Hill And That Hill Beyond Were As Unexpected As Pictures At Which You Say "oh Look!" Nobody Was Beside Her To Share The Moment, Which Would Have Been Imperfect With Anyone Else There.

She Walked About With The Rather Fated Expression You See In Photographs Of Girls Who Have Subsequently Been Murdered, But Nothing Had So Far Happened To Her.

Some People Are Molded By Their Admirations, Others By Their Hostilities.