"Puesto que se enteraría por su propia experiencia de que el jardín era el perfeccionamiento supremo de la idea del jardín, ya que la mejor forma de … - László Krasznahorkai

Orele treceau greu, noroc ca era de mult stricat ceasul, nu se auzea ticaitul monoton care sa le aminteasca de trecerea anevoioasa a timpului.

(...) he was lost in successive waves of time, coolly aware of the minimal speck of his own being, seeing himself as the defenseless, helpless victim of the earth’s crust, the brittle arc of his life between birth and death caught up in the dumb struggle between surging seas and rising hills, and it was as if he could already feel the gentle tremor beneath the chair supporting his bloated body, a tremor that might be the harbinger of seas about to break in on him, a pointless warning to flee before its all-encompassing power made escape impossible, and he could see himself running, part of a desperate, terrified stampede comprising stags, bears, rabbits, deer, rats, insects and reptiles, dogs and men, just so many futile, meaningless lives in the common, incomprehensible devastation, while above them flapped clouds of birds, dropping in exhaustion, offering the only possible hope.

...we must never lose sight of that gaze with which we look at things.