That is so right, Clarice.

Os factos são sonoros. O que importa são os silêncios por trás deles.

Clarice Lispector

E é no silêncio que está tudo o que importa.

From Tweedledee to Tweedledum

Why Did I Dream Of You Last Night? by Philip Larkin

Why did I dream of you last night?

Now morning is pushing back hair with grey light
Memories strike home, like slaps in the face;
Raised on elbow, I stare at the pale fog
beyond the window.

So many things I had thought forgotten
Return to my mind with stranger pain:
- Like letters that arrive addressed to someone
Who left the house so many years ago.