Night, the beloved. Night, when words fade and things come alive.
When the destructive analysis of day is done, and all that is truly important
becomes whole and sound again.
When man reassembles his fragmentary self and grows with the calm of a tree.
~Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
When the destructive analysis of day is done, and all that is truly important
becomes whole and sound again.
When man reassembles his fragmentary self and grows with the calm of a tree.
~Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
Sommarnätter. Regntyngda moln. Förväntan i luften. Allting håller andan. Väntar...
Andas in.
Andas ut.
Hur ska jag kunna sova. När nattens mörka energi kryper i kroppen.
Även om himlen är ljus, är fortfarande natten mörk.
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