Ahead two distant houses. Facing each other across the road. Pass between them in a crossfire of eyes. - J. P. Donleavy

I know this is a dreadful inconvenience for you, Miss Frost. I want you to know I really appreciate it. I have till now counted my friends on a hand of amputated fingers.

Along the Liffey quays this night, puddles of water on the cobble stoned street. Lonely lamplights. Coal dust and barrels, crates and bundles of wire. Great shadows of the gas tank rearing in the sky. A whiff and sniff and smell of pine timber.
Wild shadows against a sky faintly purple. Clouds rolling with moonlit edges. The blast of a ship's whistle. A hawser splashing in the water. Up in the crystal night the ship's red light. Trembling engines as the great black silhouette moves out on the flowing river.

Rid the mind of knowledge when looking for pleasure. Or start thinking and find a lot of pain.