Depois de escrever o último post, dei por mim a pensar se será que é assim que queremos viver??...a correr de um instante para outro sem apreciarmos o facto de o termos vivido...e será que dessa forma o teremos realmente vivido???
E depois lembrei-me desta frase...
"So if I asked you about art you could give me the skinny on every art book ever written...Michelangelo? You know a lot about him I bet. Life's work, criticisms, political aspirations. But you couldn't tell me what it smells like in the Sistine Chapel. You've never stood there and looked up at that beautiful ceiling. And if I asked you about women I'm sure you could give me a syllabus of your personal favorites, and maybe you've been laid a few times too. But you couldn't tell me how it feels to wake up next to a woman and be truly happy. If I asked you about war you could refer me to a bevy of fictional and non-fictional material, but you've never been in one. You've never held your best friend's head in your lap and watched him draw his last breath, looking to you for help. And if I asked you about love I'd get a sonnet, but you've never looked at a woman and been truly vulnerable. Known that someone could kill you with a look. That someone could rescue you from grief. That God had put an angel on Eart just for you. And you wouldn't know how it felt to be her angel. To have the love be there for her forever. Through anything..."
from the screenplay of Good Will Hunting.