Perhaps all our loves are merely hints and symbols; vagabond language scrolled on gate posts and paving stones along the weary road that others have trampled before us; perhaps you and I are types, and this sadness which sometimes falls between us, springs from our disappointment in our search, snatching a glimpse now and then of the shadow which turns the corner, always a pace or two ahead of us… ~ Evelyn Waugh (Photo by James Macari)