It is better; heavier, crueler. The mouth you wear for hell. - Jean-Paul Sartre

Me levanté, salí. Al llegar a la verja, me volví. Entonces el jardín me sonrió. Me apoyé en la verja y miré largo rato. La sonrisa de los árboles, de macizo de laurel quería decir algo; aquél era el verdadero secreto de la existencia.

I am not asking for sensational revelations, but I would like to sense the meaning of that minute, to feel it's urgency...

"Every man ought to say to himself, "Am I really the kind of man who has the right to act in such a way that humanity might guide itself by my actions?