“And maybe my desire for another spring, this keenness that gives my face the look of one who hunts to eat, maybe this keenness is just an idea – and nothing more. However – the rare instants I sometimes come by of sufficiency, of blind life, of happiness as intense and serene as organ music – don’t these instants prove that I am capable of fulfilling my quest and that this is the longing of my entire being and not just an idea?”
