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Quote by Seth Adam Smith

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Rip Van Winkle and the Pumpkin Lantern

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Seth Adam Smith

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“In all my close friendships, words are the bricks I use to build bridges. To know someone I need to hear her, and to feel known, I need to be heard by her. The process of knowing and loving another person happens for me through conversation. I reveal something to help my friend understand me, she responds in a way that assures me she values my revelation, and then she adds something to help me understand her. This back-and-forth is repeated again and again as we go deeper into each other's hearts, minds, pasts, and dreams. Eventually, a friendship is built - a solid, sheltering structure that exists in the space between us - a space outside of ourselves that we can climb deep into. There is her, there is me, and then there is our friendship - this bridge we've built together.”

“Going farther is not enough – what matters is the extent to which we master the art of seeing, knowing, and sensing the world as we go farther. Perhaps only travelers who know how to get lost and even be vulnerable can get close to seeing?" [From “Can We Travel Without Being Tourists?” published on CounterPunch on March 15, 2024]”

“So I'll keep you wondering what time I'm arriving And you'll drive me crazy with your backseat driving And I'll talk in my sleep and you'll steal all the covers We'll argue it out and we'll call ourselves lovers And I'll stay in my body and you'll stay in your own 'Cause we know that we're born and we're dying alone. So we turn out the light while the sirens are screaming And we kiss for the waking, and then join the dreaming.”

“Não tinham mais nada para dizer? Seus olhos, no entanto, estavam repletos de uma conversa mais séria; e, enquanto esforçavam-se para encontrar frases banais, ambos sentiam um mesmo langor invadir-lhes; era como um murmúrio da alma, profundo, contínuo, que dominava o das vozes. Tomados de espanto por aquela nova suavidade, não pensavam em narrar ao outro aquela sensação ou em descobrir sua causa. As alegrias futuras, assim como as costas dos trópicos, projetam suas indolências natais sobre a imensidão que as precede, uma espécie de brisa perfumada, e adormece-se naquela embriaguez sem nem mesmo preocupar-se com o horizonte, o qual não se pode avistar.”