This is thy hour o soul, thy free flight into the wordless, away from books, away from art, the day erased, the lesson done, thee fully forth emerging, silent, gazing, pondering the themes thou lovest best, night, sleep, death and the stars.
—Walt Whitman (via observando)
Only mystery makes us live. Only mystery.
—Federico García Lorca, Le Poète À New York (via observando)