«Two gallons is a great deal of wine, even for two paisanos.
Spiritually the jugs maybe graduated thus: Just below the shoulder of the first
bottle, serious and concentrated conversation. Two inches farther down, sweetly
sad memory. Three inches more, thoughts of old and satisfactory loves. An inch,
thoughts of bitter loves. Bottom of the first jug, general and undirected
sadness. Shoulder of the second jug, black, unholy despondency. Two fingers
down, a song of death or longing. A thumb, every other song each one knows. The
graduations stop here, for the trail splits and there is no certainty. From
this point anything can happen.»
Les meir “Joyce of life”