“Running beer gathers no foam.”

“Let us reflect, if we wish to be brilliant. Too much improvisation empties the mind in a stupid way. Running beer gathers no froth. No haste, gentlemen.”

“Hip," I murmur, remembering last night, how I lost it completely in a stall at Nell's---my mouth foaming, all I could think about were insects, lots of insects, and running at pigeons, foaming at the mouth and running at pigeons.”

“I carried my pint to a corner table and sat just looking at it for a moment: the head of foam, the tiny bubbles ascending through clear gold, the droplets condensing on the sides of the glass, then running down to form a wet circle on the beer mat. Reputations are ruined, marriages destroyed, lifes works forsaken for the beauty of such a sight. There are seven thousand pubs in London.”

“The flow of the river is ceaseless; and its water is never the same.The foam that floats in the poolsNow gathering, now vanishingNever lasts long. So it is with manand all his dwelling places on this earth.”

“It is a great feeling to know that from a windowI can go to books to cans of beer to past loves.And from these gather enough dream to sneak out a back door.”