At the very smallest wheel of our reasoning it is possible for a handful of questions to break the bank of our answers.
Antonio MachadoHas my heart gone to sleep? Have the beehives of my dreams stopped working, the waterwheel of the mind run dry, scoops turning empty, only shadow inside? No, my heart is not asleep. It is awake, wide awake. Not asleep, not dreamingโ its eyes are opened wide watching distant signals, listening on the rim of vast silence
Antonio MachadoLife is the path you beat while you walk it It's the walking that beats the path It is not the path that makes the walk
Antonio MachadoThe afternoon is bright, with spring in the air, a mild March afternoon, with the breath of April stirring, I am alone in the quiet patio looking for some old untried illusion - some shadow on the whiteness of the wall some memory asleep on the stone rim of the fountain, perhaps in the air the light swish of some trailing gown.
Antonio Machado