“But what you’re calling poetry is what everything is. It’s not even poetry — it’s seeing. These materialists are blind. You told me they say space is infinite. Where do they see that in space?”

And I, disconcerted: “But don’t you think of space as infinite? Can’t you conceive of space as infinite?”

“I don’t conceive of anything as being infinite. How could I conceive of anything as being infinite?”

“But, man,” I said, “Imagine space. Beyond that space is more space, and beyond that more, and then more, and more... It never ends...“

“Why?” asked my master Caeiro.”