Joana

“-Back there our sun doesn't speak.
-Where's "there," Miss Marta?
-Back there, in Europe. Here, it's different. Here, the sun moans, whispers, shouts.
-Surely-I commented delicately-the sun is always the same.
- You're wrong. There, the sun is a stone. Here it's a fruit.”
― Mia Couto, The Tuner of Silences

“I like too many things and get all confused and hung-up running from one falling star to another till i drop. This is the night, what it does to you. I had nothing to offer anybody except my own confusion.”
― Jack Kerouac

“The man who comes back through the Door in the Wall will never be quite the same as the man who went out. He will be wiser but less sure, happier but less self-satisfied, humbler in acknowledging his ignorance yet better equipped to understand the relationship of words to things, of systematic reasoning to the unfathomable mystery which it tries, forever vainly, to comprehend”
― Aldous Huxley, The Doors of Perception

“Quem viveu pregado a um só chão não sabe sonhar outros lugares.”
― Mia Couto, Jesusalém