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1 " His own life suddenly seemed repellently formal. Whom did he know or what did he know and whom did he love? Sitting on the stump under the burden of his father's death and even the mortality inherent in the dying, wildly colored canopy of leaves, he somehow understood that life was only what one did every day.... Nothing was like anything else, including himself, and everything was changing all of the time. He knew he couldn't perceive the change because he was changing too, along with everything "
2 " I cannot lament the loss of a love or a friendship without meditating that one loses only what one really never had. "
― Jorge Luis Borges , Labyrinths: Selected Stories & Other Writings
