THIRD WATCHER Let her speak. Don't interrupt. She knows words that mermaids taught her...I'm falling asleep in order to hear her...Go on, sister, go on...My heart aches because I wasn't you when you dreamed at the seashore.

Yes, talking to people makes me sleepy.

Whether or not they exist we are slaves to our gods.

I look for myself but find no one. I belong to the chrysanthemum hour of bright flowers placed in tall vases. I should make an ornament of my soul.

I think of life as an inn where I have to stay until the abyss coach arrives. I don't know where it will take me, for I know nothing.

Why is art beautiful? Because it's useless. Why is life ugly? Because it's all ends and purposes and intentions.

Everything is worthwhile if the soul is not small.