To Say it’s a Nice Day is Difficult…

“What moves lives. What is said endures. There’s nothing in life that’s less real for having been described. Small-minded critics point out that such and such a poem, with its protracted cadences, in the end says merely that it’s a nice day. But to say it’s a nice day is difficult, and the nice day itself passes on. It’s up to us to conserve the nice day in a wordy, florid memory, sprinkling new flowers and new stars over the fields and skies of the empty, fleeting outer world.”

-Fernando Pessoa. The Book of Disquiet.

This beautiful book was set on this particular street in Lisbon, Portugal and was the sole reason for a journey there.