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“That's what you get for pretending to be asleep."

"How is trying to touch my brain with your hair a suitable punishment for fake sleeping after being woken up by your bed-shaking snores?"

Her eyes narrowed and she shoved at my shoulder. "I don't snore."

"You're totally right. The fog horn must have been all in my head.”
― Maya Hughes, The Fourth Time Charm

“Notes on the Leper Colony and Insane Asylums on Robben Island:
In the winter, wild North westerly gales sweep in across the Island, battering the shore and bringing with them a dense sea mist that shrouds everything in its path. Despite the light and the foghorn many ships have foundered on those dark rocks. Perhaps this gives rise to the story that it is not only the crying of the seabirds that can be heard on dark winter nights. There are other stories about lost souls...”
― Barbara Townsend, Out of mind