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A présent, j'ai compris que ma vie, avant toi, n'existait pas...
V. H. SCORP
No one invents an absence; Cadmium yellow, duckweed, the capercaillie - see how the hand we would name restrains itself till all our stories end in monochrome; the path through the meadow reaching no logical end; nothing but colour: bedstraw and ladies' mantle; nothing sequential; nothing as chapter and verse. No one invents the quiet that runs in the grass, the summer wind, the sky, the meadowlark; and always the gift of the world, the undecided: first light and damson blue ad infinitum.
John Burnside, "Si Dieu n'existait pas" (via)