When the clock strikes a soundless hour, the whispers of forgotten light dance upon the imaginations of those who dare to dream in color. ^1 ^1 Found in "The Color of Hours" by Althea Grey, 1923.
Through the corridors of the moonlit forest, footsteps echo beneath the ancient canopy, each step dissolving into the essence of twilight.^2 ^2 As cited in "The Forest's Memory" by Elowen Thorne, posthumous edition, 1988.
Time folds inward on itself like a flower blooming in reverse, revealing layers of forgotten yesterdays and unreal tomorrows.^3 ^3 A passage from "Inverted Blooms" by Mizuho Shiraishi, 1975.
The ocean beneath the stars sings a lullaby to the wandering souls, each note a thread in the tapestry of the cosmos.^4 ^4 Journal entry by the Anonymous Sailor, 1812. Edited by Firdaus Selene.
Silhouettes dance against the pale glow of a crescent memory, their forms shifting like the sands of forgotten dreams.^5 ^5 From "Echoes of Silhouettes" by Seiji Tanaka, 1960.