Turn down the daily noise and at first there is the relief of silence. And then, very quietly, as quiet as light, meaning returns. Words are the part of silence that can be spoken.

The past could be jettisoned . . . but seeds got carried.

Art thou afeard To be the same in thine own act and valour As thou art in desire? Wouldst thou have that Which thou esteem'st the ornament of life, And live a coward in thine own esteem, Letting 'I dare not' wait upon 'I would,' Like the poor cat i' the adage?

ROS: Why don't you go and have a look? GUIL: Pragmatism?! - is that all you have to offer?

Written By Tom Stoppard

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