I say, the night cannot be day, and certainly not a year. I say, for if life has gone astray, it shall not be endeared. Some say, as sure as salad stew, that now shall be good soon; some say, as sure as pigeons coo, that good shall soon be doomed. She said, like a snippet of a dream, that it was not okay; she said, like a summer sunset gleam, that I must quit today.