The spark in his eye, which is one's very self, caught the spark in hers that was herself, and for a moment they looked into each other's natures. - Willa Cather

At any rate, that is happiness; to be dissolved into something complete and great.

Don't you feel that at this rate there isn't much in it? In what? In living at all, going on as we do. What do we get out of it? Take a day like this: you waken up in the morning and you're glad to be alive; it's a good enough day for anything, and you feel sure something will happen. Well, whether it's a workday or a holiday, it's all the same in the end. At night you go to bed - nothing has happened.

The end is nothing, the road is all