Night train to Lisbon

Buried under all the mute experiences, are those unseen ones that give our life its form, its color and its melody. Then, when we turn to these treasures, as archeologists of the soul, we discover how confusing they are. The object of contemplation refuses to stand still, the words bounce off the experience and in the end, pure contradictions stand on the paper. For a long time, I thought it was a defect, something to be overcome. Today I think it is different: that recognition of the confusion is the ideal path for understanding these intimate yet enigmatic experiences. That sounds strange, even bizarre, I know. But ever since I have seen this issue in this light, I have the feeling of being really awake and alive for the fist time...
(Pascal Mercier)