My span is defined, not so much by the substance of the years, but rather by the weight of generations, past to present, by an endowment of wonton neglect of those imperfectly loved and an inconstant attachment to the affirmations of acceptance, gratitude and charity...

It must have been more than ten years, an age it seemed to Daniel since he had laid eyes on the man, a lonely figure, trudging doggedly across the barren dunes that built to steep walls against the encroachment of the sea...

He folded his fingers about the reins. The fingers of his left hand felt slightly stiff in the cold of the morning. He hoisted himself lightly into the saddle; it smelled of oil...