"I believe in everything until it's disproved. So I believe in fairies, the myths, dragons. It all exists, even if it's in your mind. Who's to say that dreams and nightmares aren't as real as the here and now?"
syns jeg at folk i Norge oppfører seg som bortskjemte drittunger. Derfor en stor, stor tommel opp for Per Fugelli og Den norske klagemuren, som sier det som mange tenker eller burde tenke.
Og ja, det er han med de fine sløyfene. Tommel opp for det óg.
Forgetfulness is like a song That, freed from beat and measure, wanders. Forgetfulness is like a bird whose wings are reconciled, Outspread and motionless, -- A bird that coasts the wind unwearyingly. Forgetfulness is rain at night, Or an old house in a forest, -- or a child. Forgetfulness is white, -- white as a blasted tree, And it may stun the sybil into prophecy, Or bury the Gods. I can remember much forgetfulness.