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The Weekend Australian - Travel - - Travel & Indulgence -

‘AT the univer­sity he took cour­ses he couldn’t un­der­stand, humped back and forth with­out speak­ing to any­one, went home for week­ends of ex­co­ri­a­tion. At last he dropped out of school and looked for a job, kept his hand over his chin. Noth­ing was clear to lone­some Quoyle. His thoughts churned like the amor­phous thing that an­cient sailors, drift­ing into arc­tic half-light, called the Sea Lung; a heav­ing sludge of ice un­der fog where air blurred into wa­ter, where liq­uid was solid, where solids dis­solved, where the sky froze and light and dark mud­dled.’

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