“I think of beauty as something that dies; either it’s destroyed by time or stupidity or I have only a moment to experience it, and then only memory after that; even if i can return and look again, I can’t quite manage to get back the moment. So, to me, the beauty of the trees is like the beauty of death, as if death will mean wondering forever in the dim of those trees, the landscape funerealizes in its lushest profusion of green.”
