Life & Times of Michael K - pg. 97

Ducking through the fences, he could feel a craftman's pleasure in wire spanned so taut that it hummed when it was plucked. Nonetheless, he could not imagine himself spending his life driving stakes into the ground, erecting fences, dividing up the land. He thought of himself not as something heavy that left tracks behind it, but if anything as a speck upon the surface of an earth too deeply asleep to notice the scratch of an ant-feet, the rasp of butterfly teeth, the tumbling of dust.