Vision may sometimes sleep in the sun, while it wakens to widest revelation in utter darkness. Thus I am rapt in a trance-like acceptance of opening cavernous depths, crypts of decyphered gloom, yielding hollows of velvet obscurity that go down, down to the roots of things. – Virginia Garland, “The Rain,” Out West: A Magazine of the Old Pacific and the Ne

It is seldom indeed that one parts on good terms, because if one were on good terms one would not part. – Marcel Proust, The Fugitive, Remembrance of Things Past, 1925

A kind soul knows impoliteness is just preoccupied with distraction. – Mike Dolan, @HawaiianLife