My soul is a hidden orchestra; I know not what instruments, what fiddlestrings and harps, drums and tambours I sound and clash inside myself. All I hear is the symphony.
— Pessoa
One day, when all knowledge ceases, the door beyond will open and everything that we were - a mere detritus of stars and souls – will be swept from the house in order that whatever remains may begin again.
My heart aches as if it were not mine. My brain lulls to sleep everything I feel.
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