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1 " ... he had always wondered why the sensations one felt in dreamas were so much more intense than anything one could experience in waking reality—why the horror was so total and the ecstacy so complete—and what was that extra quality which could never be recaptured afterward; the quality of what he felt when he walked down a path through tangled green leaves in a dream, in an air full of expectation, of causeless, utter rapture—and when he awakened he could not explain it, it had just been a path through some woods. "
― Ayn Rand , The Fountainhead
2 " The Earth Turned to Bring us Closerby: Eugenio MontejoThe earth turned to bring us closerit turned on itself and within usuntil it finally brought us together in this dreamas written in the Symposium.Nights passed by, snowfalls and solsticestime passed in minutes and millennia.An ox cart that was on its way to Nineveharrived in Nebraska.A rooster was singing some distance from the world,in one of the thousand pre-lives of our fathers.The earth was spinning with its musiccarrying us on board;it didn't stop turning a single momentas if so much love,so much that is beautifulwas only an adagio written long agoin the Symposium's score. "
3 " Holding up an oil-paper umbrella,I loiter aimlessly in the long, longAnd lonely rainy alley,I hope to encounterA lilac-like girlNursing her resentmentA lilac-like color she hasA lilac-like fragrance,A lilac-like sadness,Melancholy in the rain,Sorrowful and uncertain;She loiters aimlessly in this lonely rainy alleyHolding up an oil-paper umbrellaJust like meAnd just like meWalks silently,Apathetic, sad and disconsolateSilently she moves closerMoves closer and castsA sigh-like glanceShe glides byLike a dreamHazy and confused like a dreamAs in a dream she glides pastLike a lilac spray,This girl glides past beside me;She silently moves away, moves awayUp to the broken-down bamboo fence,To the end of the rainy alley.In the rains sad song,Her color vanishesHer fragrance diffuses,Even herSigh-like glance,Lilac-like discontentVanish.Holding up an oil-paper umbrella, aloneAimlessly walking in the long, longAnd lonely rainy alley,I wish forA lilac-like girlNursing her resentment glide by. "
― Dai Wangshu
