• Much of my crying is for joy and wonder rather than for pain. A trumpet's wailing, a wind's warm breath, the chink of a bell on an errant lamb, the smoke from a candle just spent, first light, twilight, firelight. Everyday beauty. I cry for how life intoxicates. And maybe just a little for how swiftly it runs.

    Marlena de Blasi (2013). “A Thousand Days in Venice: An Unexpected Romance”, p.25, Algonquin Books