"Well, Art is Art, isn't it? Still, on the other hand, water is water. And east is east and west is west and if you take cranberries and stew them like applesauce they taste much more like prunes than rhubarb does. Now you tell me what you know."
- Groucho Marx
"These memories, which are my life - for we possess nothing certainly except the past - were always with me. Like the pigeons of St Mark´s they were everywhere, under my feet, singly, in pairs, in little honey-voiced congregations, nodding, stuttering, winking, rolling the tender feathers of their necks, perching sometimes, if I stood still, on my shoulder; until, suddenly, the noon gun boomed and in a moment, with a flutter and sweep of wings, the pavement was bare and the whole sky above dark with tumult of fowl."
Evelyn Waugh: Brideshead Revisted