"It can rain and it can blow - these are not the things that count; often on a rainy day a small joy possesses one so that one retires into a private happiness. One stands looking straight ahead, laughing softly now and then and glancing around. What is one thinking of? A clear pane in a window, a ray of sunlight on the pane, a view across to a little stream and perhaps to a break of blue in the sky. It need not be more.
At other times even unusual events cannot jolt a man out of a dreary and cheerless mood; in the middle of a ballroom he can sit unmoved, indifferent , and impassive. For it is within ourselves that the sources of joy and sorrow lie. [...]"
Knut Hamsun, Pan,
trad. James W. McFarlane,
Londres: The Folio Society, 1983
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