I feel so very awake in the marrow of my bones that I can hardly breathe. I wake early, buy coffee and wine, squint against the late June sun. I let my body crave the things that it craves, sing the songs it needs to sing, and beyond that there isn't much else.

Ilya Ilf and Yevgeniy Petrov, "The Twelve Chairs"

mastering how to be motionless in a constantly moving city