“One Sunday morning the warm sun came up and - pop! - out of the egg came a tiny and very hungry caterpillar.”
“Sunday just came down like a nine-pound hammer ... it was tainted with the closing-in feeling of the loss of freedom. Because after the sun went down, it came back up on Monday morning. And you had to go to work five more days. And it sucked.”
“One warm morning in July, a ghost came to our breakfast table.”
“On Sunday morning I went out for a while in the neighbourhood; I bought someraisin bread. The day was warm but a little sad, as Sundays often are in Paris,especially when one doesn't believe in God.”
“Then the sun came up and shook the night chill out of the air the way you'd shake a rug.”
“Few people arise in the morning as hungry for God as they are for cornflakes or toast and eggs.”