Perhaps what I have to say to you will turn out to be, in the end, only those unspoken, wordless things to be found in your own mysterious soul, as mysterious as my own, as mysterious as the atmosphere that surrounds every one of us, those things that are unique to each individual. Those wordless things inherited from eternal darkness, from the wind and the salt sea, from land and sky. Those things which we believe we brought with us from wild beginnings but which, if truth be told, have brought us. And if in the end, I can only tell you of that which you already silently know, that might be best of all.
-Alethea Leondakis
Mug Mugs
