God changes appearances every second. Blessed is the man who can recognize him in all his disguises. One moment he is a glass of fresh water, the next, your son bouncing on your knees or an enchanting woman, or perhaps merely a morning walk.
Nikos KazantzakisLook, one day I had gone to a little village. An old grandfather of ninety was busy planting an almond tree. โWhat, grandfather!โ I exclaimed. โPlanting an almond tree?โ And he, bent as he was, turned around and said: โMy son, I carry on as if I should never die.โ I replied: โAnd I carry on as if I was going to die any minute.โ Which of us was right, boss?
Nikos KazantzakisIt was certainly not this mummified and outrageously painted old woman he was seeing before him, but the entire "female species," as it was his custom to call women. The individual disappeared, the features were obliterated, whether young or senile, beautiful or ugly - those were mere unimportant variations. Behind each woman rises the austere, sacred and mysterious face of Aphrodite.
Nikos Kazantzakis