"Να πεθαίνεις κάθε μέρα. Να γεννιέσαι κάθε μέρα. Ν' αρνιέσαι ό, τι έχεις κάθε μέρα. Η ανώτατη αρετή δεν είναι να' σαι ελεύτερος, παρά να μάχεσαι για … - Nikos Kazantzakis

Madness, Brother Masseo, is the salt which prevents good sense from rotting.

I am not alone in my fear, nor alone in my hope, nor alone in my shouting. A tremendous host, an onrush of the Universe fears, hopes, and shouts with me. I am an improvised bridge, and when Someone passes over me, I crumble away behind Him.

With silent strides Odysseus then shot back the bolt,
passed lightly through the courtyard and sped down the street.
Some saw him take the graveyard's zigzag mountain path,
some saw him leap on rocks that edged the savage shore,
some visionaries saw him in the dead of night
swimming and talking secretly with the sea-demons,
but only a small boy saw him in a lonely dream
sit crouched and weeping by the dark sea's foaming edge.