I have no right to call myself one who knows.
I was one who seeks, and I still am, but I no longer seek in the stars or in the books; I'm beginning to hear the teachings of my blood pulsing within me.
My story isn't pleasant. It's not sweet and harmonious like invented stories. It tastes of folly and bewilderment, of madness and dream, like the life of all people who no longer want to lie to themselves.Hermann Hesse
“הזכירו לקוצים הקשים
שהיו רכים וירוקים באביב,
שגם האגרוף היה פעם,
כף יד פתוחה ואצבעות”
~ יהודה עמיחי ~