No blogue Myth & Moor, um post intitulado «Secret Threads», refere-se às palavras de C. S. Lewis, num texto que eu acho belíssimo - e apenas retirei para aqui o essencial (podem consultar o resto no referido post original):
(daqui)
«You may have noticed, that the books you really love are bound together by a secret thread. (...)»
«Again, you have stood before some landscape, which seems to embody what you have been looking for all your life (...)»
«Even in your hobbies, has there not always been some secret attraction which the others are curiously ignorant of (...)? Are not all lifelong friendships born at the moment when at last you meet another human being who has some inkling (but faint and uncertain even in the best) of that something which you were born desiring, and which, beneath the flux of other desires and in all the momentary silences between the louder passions, night and day, year by year, from childhood to old age, you are looking for, watching for, listening for?»
«You have never had it. All the things that have ever deeply possessed your soul have been but hints of it - tantalising glimpses, promises never quite fulfilled, echoes that died away just as they caught your ear. But if it should really become manifest - if there ever came an echo that did not die away but swelled into the sound itself - you would know it. Beyond all possibility of doubt you would say, 'Here at last is the thing I was made for.' »
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(daqui)
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E Terri Windling remata dizendo:
«This, to me, is what fantasy literature (and mythic arts) does best: it tugs on those secret threads, evokes bright worlds half-glimpsed at the corner of our eyes...where the heart's desire lies just ahead, but always just ahead, beyond the next turn of the page.»
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(os sublinhados são meus)
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