What can you conceive more silly and extravagant than to suppose a man racking his brains, and studying night and day how to fly?
I have 800 books of just Samuel Beckett's work, tons of his correspondence, personal letters that he wrote. I have copies of plays he used when he directed, so all of his handwritten notes are in the corners of the page.
Can miles truly separate you from friends... If you want to be with someone you love, aren't you already there?