The only thing I've loved is nothing at
all. The only thing I've desired is what I couldn't even imagine. All
I asked of life is that it go on by without my feeling it. All I
demanded of love is that it never stop being a distant dream. In my
own inner landscapes, all of them unreal, I've always been attracted
to what's in the distance, and the hazy aqueducts – almost out of
sight in my dreamed landscapes – had a dreamy sweetness in relation
to the rest of the landscape, a sweetness that enabled me to love
them.
Fernando Pessoa
The Book of Disquiet
translation: Richard Zenith
p. 88
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