It was at the outskirts of the world that the Old Things accumulated$$$ like driftwood round the edges of the sea.

It is generally the trustful and optimistic people who can afford to retreat. The loveless and faithless ones are compelled by their pessimism to attack.

He was one of those people who would be neither a follower nor a leader$$$ but only an aspiring heart$$$ impatient in the failing body which imprisoned it.

I can see that you spoke in ignorance$$$ and I bitterly regret that I should have been so petty as to take offence where none was intended.

Were they$$$ for some purpose almost too cunning for belief$$$ only disguised as themselves?

If it takes a million years for a fish to become a reptile$$$ has Man$$$ in our few hundred$$$ altered out of recognition?

And do you know another thing$$$ Arthur? Life is too bitter already$$$ without territories and wars and noble feuds.

Perhaps he does not want to be friends with you until he knows what you are like. With owls$$$ it is never easy-come-easy-go.

Little as she was addicted to solitude$$$ there had come to be moments when it seemed a welcome escape from the empty noises of her life.

Life is always either a tightrope or a feather bed. Give me the tightrope.