We flew back home like swallows. 'Is it happiness that makes us so light?' Agathe asked.
Père GoriotEven the rain in its night singing, / the night rain in its forgetting, / is a kind of light.
Thirty-Seven Small Songs & Thirteen SilencesWhen I get to heaven, and I see a being of light, I’m going to ask him if he’s the urologist.
This Book Has No TitleA tree doesn't make a thunderstorm, but any fool knows where lighting´s going to strike".
The Wise Man's Fear