Every article on these islands has an almost personal character, which gives this simple life, where all art is unknown, something of the artistic beauty of medieval life.

The grief of the keen is no personal complaint for the death of one woman over eighty years, but seems to contain the whole passionate rage that lurks somewhere in every native of the island.

The simple life is an authentic life.

Life is simple. You just have to LIVE IT!

I’m a simple man without a lot of complicated twists and turns. Look down my throat and you can see out my ass.

Sounds simple, doesn’t it, this notion of simplicity? Simple things done simply by a simple person. But it’s not as simple as it seems.