How's reality?

Reality is green on Thursday, yellow on Monday, blue on Friday and white on Tuesday, Saturday, Wednesday and Sunday.

(Dr. Divago)

“What is a poet?”

«What is a poet? An unhappy person who conceals profound anguish in his heart but whose lips are so formed that as sighs and cries pass over them they sound like beautiful music. » (Kierkegaard)

A modest proposal for an alternate version: «“What is a poet?” A poet is not someone that could be anything else but “be”. A being that feels life to the painful depths of real meaning, where he can really see the truths hidden by the bright light of the day. “To be” means being able to raise your mind high enough to have a glimpse at the eternal truths beyond appearances. The poet conceals, in his heart, pearls of translucent milky light whose radiance, sometimes, reach his hands creating a rainbow of meaning on the blank pages. His lips will never be able to pass over the echo of such a beautiful music. Only his soul and his hands matters» (Dr. Divago)

Attraversare

«Non ci si libera di una cosa evitandola, ma soltanto attraversandola».
(Cesare Pavese)

Consequences

When the human soul dies, all the rest are just consequences.

(Dr. Divago)

Christmas tree off a truck

«While I was walking, I passed these two guys that were unloading this big Christmas tree off a truck. One guy kept saying to the other guy, "Hold the sonuvabitch up. Hold it up for Chrissake!" It certainly was a gorgeous way to talk about a Christmas tree».

(J. D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye)

Being different

«They laugh at me because I'm different; I laugh at them because they're all the same».

(Kurt Cobain - attributed)

What are we to do?

«As long as the dark foundation of our nature, grim in its all-encompassing egoism, mad in its drive to make that egoism into reality, to devour everything and to define everything by itself, as long as that foundation is visible, as long as this truly original sin exists within us, we have no business here and there is no logical answer to our existence. Imagine a group of people who are all blind, deaf and slightly demented and suddenly someone in the crowd asks, “What are we to do?”... The only possible answer is “Look for a cure”. Until you are cured, there is nothing you can do. And since you don't believe you are sick, there can be no cure»

(Влади́мир Серге́евич Соловьёв, Vladimir Sergeyevich Solovyov)