"and if a man can sleep salty from the sea and in the morning discover
himself to be a cattle drover, and if another wakes up as an insect in
the mind of a writer, and if from the fingers of a painter an Abaporu
blossomed, and if on a movie screen appeared ants and an Andalusian
dog, and if fields and branches and roses gave birth to imaginary
territories, you can be sad in the morning, hopeful in the afternoon,
and sunny at night, Bia,
you can dry your whole tongue in thirst, you can touch, not with
thought, but with illogical feeling, that which vibrates between my
words, and gather, like clothes on a line, the meanings that hang there,
and also catch in all of them the history they begin to tell you;"
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