I admit I often tear up letters myself: one can’t, even at my age, believe that other people want affection or admiration; yea one knows that there’s nothing in the whole world so important. Why is it? Why are we all so tongue tied and spellbound? Why do we live three streets off and yet never meet? I think human beings are fundamentally crushed by a sense of their insignificance.
—Virgina Woolf, carta para Philip Morrell, 3 de Fevereiro de 1938
A caminho da missa pascal…
— E hoje vamos à missa, pedir perdão a Deus…
— Tu vais, eu e a C. vamos agradecer-Lhe.
Tudo parecia calmo, sereno, lento. Foi um Domingo de Páscoa como nenhum outro.
iPhone, Fotografia de CL.
— Ele vai-nos deixar aqui sozinhos?
— Acho que sim…
— Podemos portar-nos mal!
The goal of adulthood is to let go of the other possible existences and to make the best of the one. A successful adult is one who understands that it doesn’t matter which life you ultimately pick, only that you live it well.
— Chris Ballas, The Last Psychiatrist