Today the paper coming down from the mountain smelled stronger than the snow. Someone stitched it in a hurry.

• Sister DorotheaYour nose is still young, old man.
  Old AnselmNot my nose. My hands. The paste hadn't dried yet.
• Brother BrunoI'm the one who carried that load, and I didn't smell a thing.
  Old AnselmYou carry it on your back. I carry it in my hands.