"... It is aging slowly: first, the desire grows old's life and the people, you know, gradually, everything is so real you understand the meaning of it all, everything is repeated to boring scary kind, too, has to do with age. You know, a glass is just a glass. And a man, the poor, is only a mortal man, whatever he does. Then the body ages, not all at once, no, first age the eyes or the legs or the heart. It is aged in rates.
And all at once the soul begins to age, because the body may have become old, but the soul still has her own desires, their memories, yet it seeks, nor do they pleased, yet she longs for joy. And when the longing for happiness goes, leaving only the memories or the vanity, and then you're really old, finally.
One day awakes and rubs her eyes: you do not know what it is awakened. We know too well, indicating the day: spring or winter, the externality of life, the weather, the schedule of everyday life. It can happen no more surprising: Not even the unexpected, unusual, a terrible surprise, because you know all the vicissitudes, expects all, wants nothing more, neither good nor bad. This is the age.
lives in the heart of something, a memory, kind of a life goal, you want someone once again see you want to say learn something or, and we know very well that the moment will come for it, but it's suddenly not so important to know the truth and to answer her, as had been the adoption in the decades of waiting. Gradually, one understands the world, and then die. ... "
And all at once the soul begins to age, because the body may have become old, but the soul still has her own desires, their memories, yet it seeks, nor do they pleased, yet she longs for joy. And when the longing for happiness goes, leaving only the memories or the vanity, and then you're really old, finally.
One day awakes and rubs her eyes: you do not know what it is awakened. We know too well, indicating the day: spring or winter, the externality of life, the weather, the schedule of everyday life. It can happen no more surprising: Not even the unexpected, unusual, a terrible surprise, because you know all the vicissitudes, expects all, wants nothing more, neither good nor bad. This is the age.
lives in the heart of something, a memory, kind of a life goal, you want someone once again see you want to say learn something or, and we know very well that the moment will come for it, but it's suddenly not so important to know the truth and to answer her, as had been the adoption in the decades of waiting. Gradually, one understands the world, and then die. ... "
quoted from: Sándor Márai, The glow
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