لو كنا نعرف ما تقوله الحجارة, والأزهار , والمطر ! لعلها تنادي , تنادينا ونحن لا نسمع . متى ستنفتح آذان الناس ؟ متى ستتفتح أعيننا لنرى ؟ متى سنفتح الأ… - Nikos Kazantzakis

"I do not know whether behind appearances there lives and moves a secret essence superior to me. Nor do I ask; I do not care. I create phenomena in swarms, and paint with a full palette a gigantic and gaudy curtain before the abyss. Do not say, "Draw the curtain that I may see the painting." The curtain is the painting.

Truly, everything in this world depended on time. Time ripened all. If you had time, you succeeded in working the human mud internally and turning it into spirit. Then you did not fear death. If you did not have time, you perished.

"What are you looking at, grandfather?" he asked with curiosity.
The old man raised his head and smiled sadly. "At my life flowing and disappearing, son, flowing and disappearing."
"Don't worry, grandfather, it knows where it is going–toward the sea, everyone's life flows toward the sea."
The old man sighed. "Yes, my son, that is why the sea is salty — from the many tears."
He turned back to the flowing stream and did not speak again.