O world, that's you! You are but a widened place in the river Where Life looks down and we rejoice for her Mirrored in us, and so we dream And turn a… - Edgar Lee Masters

"Viandante,
amare è ritrovare la propria anima
traverso l'anima dell'amato.
Quando l'amato se ne stacca,
allora tu l'hai perduta.
È scritto: "Ho un amico,
ma il mio dolore non ha amici"."

Che cosa vedi adesso? [...]
Luce, solo luce, che trasforma tutto il mondo in giocattolo.
Molto bene, faremo gli occhiali così.

I bought every kind of machine that's known-
Grinders, shellers, planters, mowers,
Mills and rakes and ploughs and threshers-
And all of them stood in the rain and sun,
Getting rusted, warped and battered,
For I had no sheds to store them in,
And no use for most of them.
And toward the last, when I thought it over,
There by my window, growing clearer
About myself, as my pulse slowed down,
And looked at one of the mills I bought-
Which I didn't have the slightest need of,
As things turned out, and I never ran-
A fine machine, once brightly varnished,
And eager to do its work,
Now with its paint washed off-
I saw myself as a good machine
That Life had never used.