Each the others world entire.

Men say they only learn this but he said that no creature can learn that which his heart has no shape to hold.

There is a moon shaped rictus in the streetlamp's globe where a stone has gone and from this aperture there drifts down through the constant helix of aspiring insects a faint and steady rain of the same forms burnt and lifeless.

Your heart's desire is to be told some mystery. The mystery is that there is no mystery.

What you alter in the remembering has yet a reality, known or not.

In the neuter austerity of that terrain all phenomena were bequeathed a strange equality and no one thing nor spider nor stone nor blade of grass could put forth claim to precedence. The very clarity of these articles belied their familiarity, for the eye predicates the whole on some feature or part and here was nothing more luminous than another and nothing more enshadowed and in the optical democracy of such landscapes all preference is made whimsical and a man and a rock become endowed with unguessed kinship.

You say you can't? Then don't do it. That's all.