“Do you know, sir, why I had gone to those places? You needn’t ask, I’ll tell you. How is it that you can like the true in the false? Friendship with the illusion of disillusionment? I had it easy, but with dreams that left me tired. The sort from which you wake up slowly. Love? A bird that lays iron eggs. It was worse when I started staying awake all night, not able to sleep. Diadorim was one of those inscrutable persons—he never revealed his inner thoughts, nor what he was surmising. I think I was that way too. Did I really want to know him? I did and I didn’t. Not even if you bury it in silence can a thing that doesn’t make sense be dealt with.”
p.49. The Devil To Pay In The Backlands “The Devil in the Street, in the Middle of the Whirlwind.” João Guimarães Rosa. Knopf, New York: 1963.