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“Everything is as vain as stirring up cold ashes, as vague as the moment just before dawn. And the light falls so serenely and perfectly on things, gilds them with such a sad, smiling reality. The whole mystery of the world appears before my eyes carved out of this banality, this street. Ah, how mysteriously the everyday things of life brush by us! On the surface, touched by light, of this complex human life, Time, like a hesitant smile, blooms on the lips of the Mystery! How modern all this sounds, yet deep down it is so ancient, so hidden, so different from the meaning that shines out from all of this!” — Fernando Pessoa
Everything is as vain as stirring up cold ashes, as vague as the moment just before dawn.
And the light falls so serenely and perfectly on things, gilds them with such a sad, smiling reality. The whole mystery of the world appears before my eyes carved out of this banality, this street.
Ah, how mysteriously the everyday things of life brush by us! On the surface, touched by light, of this complex human life, Time, like a hesitant smile, blooms on the lips of the Mystery! How modern all this sounds, yet deep down it is so ancient, so hidden, so different from the meaning that shines out from all of this!