Here's to the wind blowing against this lighted houseand to the vast, windless spaces between the stars.
Here's to the wind blowing against this lighted house and to the vast, windless spaces between the stars.
I want my mind to be a sail, susceptible to any breezethat might be blowing across the lake of consciousness.
I want my mind to be a sail, susceptible to any breeze that might be blowing across the lake of consciousness.