Cosmic Love

”What if there's more than this What if there's more out there? One way at a time I'll try to lend these broken hands of mine Give me strength, be my light One way at a time the peace will grow and fill our empty souls Give me strength, help me guide these broken hands of mine These broken hands of mine” . . . (presso Isola Bella)

[...] You have it now and that is all your whole life is; now. There is nothing nothing else than now. There is neither yesterday, certainly, nor is there any tomorrow. How old must you be before you know that?... if you stop complaining and asking for what you never will get, you will have a good life. - Hernest Hemingway . . . (presso Isola Madre)

“Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you But in your dreams whatever they be Dream a little dream of me” . . . (presso Milan, Italy)

[...]Chi non legge, a 70 anni avrà vissuto una sola vita: la propria. Chi legge avrà vissuto 5000 anni: c’era quando Caino uccise Abele, quando Renzo sposò Lucia, quando Leopardi ammirava l’infinito… perché la lettura è una immortalità all’indietro. - Umberto Eco #worldbookday . . .

[...]I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. - Henry David Thoreau . . . (presso Walden Milano)

“Decisions as I go, to anywhere I flow Sometimes I believe, at times when I should know I can fly high, I can go low Today I got a million. tomorrow, I don't know” . . . (presso Val D'orcia)

“There's a hope in every new seed And every flower that grows upon the earth And though I love you, and you know that Well I no longer know what that's worth But I'll come back to you in a year or so And I'll rebuild, be ready to become Oh the person, you believed in Oh the person, that you used to love” . . . (presso Milan, Italy)

[...]It had occurred to her many times that on board it didn’t matter where you were coming from or where you were heading. Each voyage had its own charisma. Like writing a book – word by word – or crossing a country – step by step – each minute had to be lived moment by moment. - Sara Sheridan . . . (presso Iseo, Lombardy)

[...] the cities, the roads, the countryside, the people I meet - they all begin to blur. I tell myself I am searching for something. But more and more, it feels like I am wandering, waiting for something to happen to me, something that will change everything, something that my whole life has been leading up to. - Khaled Hosseini . . . (presso Via Santa Croce, Milano)

“Out in the garden where we planted the seeds There is a tree as old as me Branches were sewn by the color of green Ground had arose and passed it's knees By the cracks of the skin I climbed to the top I climbed the tree to see the world When the gusts came around to blow me down I held on as tightly as you held onto me I held on as tightly as you held onto me” . . . (presso Cascina Cuccagna)