“In the shadows he could just make out a rough, ghostly wall that stood out in the pitch darkness. As if drawn by an irresistible black beacon, he slowly advanced step by step towards that incandescent wall of shale. Far off, the city was vanishing into the air. The fiesta disappeared somewhere beyond his eyelids. The wall was increasing in size, growing amidst a mixture of shadows and sparks. It was a wall of smoke from which sprouted candles that resembled asteroids. In fact, it was not one wall but two. Two tall, crackling walls, silently burning. But it wasn't two walls either. It was, in fact, a street.”
“The wall of silence that exists between us is as long as the Great Wall of China. And though it’s the same length, our wall is about two bricks quieter. ”
“Before I built a wall I'd ask to know what I was walling in or walling out.”
“Sadness is but a wall between two gardens.”
“At least I thought it was a wall. It sure felt like one. It was hard. It was flat. It stretched out on either side of me. You know... wall.”
“A happy wall is a long-lived wall, a practical wall, a useful wall.”