“They are given a lot of alcohol, suspiciously more than they have a right to, and it tastes good. First, it warms you and gives you beautiful eyes, and then it makes everyone else's eyes beautiful, too. Everything hard becomes soft, and all that is yours becomes theirs. If you give someone your hand, there is someone to take it. And if you say something, there is someone who will listen as if it were worth listening to. You get closer to each other, and it feels good to get closer. Your lips become beautiful, and your mouth becomes gentle and friendly. Everything is warm and all shadows disappear. Sorrow itself takes on the form of happiness.”
Book:A Moth to a Flame
