If Swans Weren't Real Myths'd Make Up.

I Believe There Is Another World Waiting For Us. A Better World. And I'll Be Waiting For You There.

Souls Cross Ages Like Clouds Cross Skies, An' Tho' A Cloud's Shape Nor Hue Nor Size Don't Stay The Same, It's Still A Cloud An' So Is A Soul. Who Can Say Where The Cloud's Blowed From Or Who The Soul'll Be 'morrow? Only Sonmi The East An' The West An' The Compass An' The Atlas, Yay, Only The Atlas O' Clouds.

History Admits No Rules; Only Outcomes.

When Insolvent, Pack Minimally, With A Valise Tough Enough To Be Thrown Onto A London Pavement From A First- Or Second-floor Window. Insist On Hotel Rooms No Higher.

Memories Are Their Own Descendents Masquerading As The Ancestors Of The Present.