“He clasps the crag with crooked hands;
Close to the sun in lonely lands,
Ring'd with the azure world, he stands.

The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls;
He watches from his mountain walls,
And like a thunderbolt he falls.”

“Like ice beneath the sun's rays — to such poverty did he fall…his fortune melted to water.”

“… just a little touches her and there. He puts his hands on your arms or back, he stands close to you, getting you used to him… it's a mating ritual. Like March of the Penguins.”

“There's a place in the world for the angry young man
With his working class ties and his radical plans
He refuses to bend he refuses to crawl
And he's always at home with his back to the wall
And he's proud of his scars and the battles he's lost
And struggles and bleeds as he hangs on his cross
And likes to be known as the angry young man.”

“So it was that Lone came to know himself; and like the handful of people who have done so before him he found, at this pinnacle, the rugged foot of a mountain.”

“A ship is alive, and he is like a man, with a true man’s heart. Treat him well and care for him properly, and he will fight for you against the worst sea. He will fight to keep you alive even after the sea has long since given him his own deathstroke. Neglect him, though, ignore the small warnings he gives of danger, and he will drown you in a flat sea beneath a cloudless sky.”

“He thought about crossing his fingers, but clasped her hand instead.”

“She put her hand in his, and he clasped it firmly, knowing he had been waiting for her all his life.”

“Lone upon a mountain, the pine-trees wailing round him,
Lone upon a mountain the Grecian youth is laid;
Sleep, mystic sleep, for many a year has bound him,
Yet his beauty, like a statue's pale and fair, is undecay'd.
When will he awaken?”

“Two birds on a wire
One tries to fly away
And the other watches him close from that wire
He says he wants to as well
But he is a liar”