weather too hot, and life too swoony. when daily life is so filling, there is no time to reconsider or reevaluate. only time to live. now as the warm wind flows through the apartment, and Stephane Wrembel sets the bar for a solitary night at home, I let Pascal Mercier speak for me
it is extraordinary, but the answer changes in me with the light that falls on the city. if it is the enchanting light of a shimmering day that produces clear sharp-edge shadows, the thought of a hidden human depth seems like a mirage that arises when I look too long at the waves flashing in that light. for when I sit outside my favorite café, basking in the sun, my whole inner world seems filled to the depths.
text taken out of the book "Night Train to Lisbon" and shortened down.