“A day spent without the sight and sound of beauty, the contemplation of mystery, or the search of truth or perfection is a poverty-stricken day; and a succession of such days is fatal to human life.” ~Lewis Mumford
It seems a flower, but not a flower, It seems a mist, but not a mist. It comes at midnight and leaves in the morning. It comes as a spring dream that does not last long. And its passing is like the morning cloud; you will find it nowhere.