Look at me now, I’ve reached the mountain, my friends.
The hour has come for a little action instead.
The world appears to me to be shrinking.
The world demands boldness or else nothing ever gets done.
Gone Fishin’
Nothing makes any sense. Things just happen, that’s all.
The lids are just now beginning to rattle.
He is pointing the way to the world up ahead.
He has always felt most at home in the dark.
He wants the things that you don’t.
The clocks in this house all tell different times.
We’re certainly something. We’re still trying to work out precisely what.
Her sense of time has become unmoored.
Everyone is embarked on their own adventure.
Roll the bottle this way if you please.
What he wants is nothing less than the future itself.
Fair enough, it sounds splendid.
I’m relieved to see that you’ve properly thought this through.
It is a place of old enchantments and merry shades.
What I’m saying is, we’re living in paradise.
So you’re saying we’ve got the ground all covered?
It was always that way and it always will be.
Don’t even walk in that direction.
And that’s what we’re doing, we’re travelling to the future.
Back there is the past. Up ahead’s the future.
Think about it. I know I’m right.
You’re still making no sense.
How strange her brain is: she can’t work herself out.
You’re just as anxious about this as I am.
Black clouds spill upwards against the pale sky.
The storm arrives at half-past noon.
The impossible is impossible until the very moment it is not.
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