terça-feira, 3 de outubro de 2006


"(...) there is something awful in the being surrounded by familiar faces asleep - in the knowledge that those who are dearest to us and to whom we are dearest, are profoundly unconscious of us, in an impassive state, anticipative of that mysterious condition to which we are all tending - the stopped life, the broken threads of yesterday, the deserted seat, the closed book, the unfinished and abandoned occupation, all are images of death. The tranquility of the hour is the tranquility of death."

Charles Dickens

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