The hive and I are vying with each other, for our rules to the game, for our circlet in the forest of liars.
“Meanwhile the shadows lengthened on the beach; the blackness deepened. The iron black boot became a pool of deep blue. The rocks lost their hardness. The water that stood round the old boat was dark as if mussels had been steeped in it. The foam had turned livid and left here and there a white gleam of pearl on the misty sand.”
Virginia Woolf | The Waves