To venture into the labyrinth of the irresoluble, and for each human to know the most sensitive and reasonable within himself— might be part of the impossible solution to the mystery of existence. With the fear proper to the brave, even while thinking himself a coward, as long as he can still reach those luminous signs that appear sorrowful and weep, complaining of complaints, urging discouragement, and tempting him to give up too soon, to cease being lost, to stop searching within the labyrinth of life— not giving more time to time. They may seem of this earth, or of another not yet discovered— these signs, in any case, invite one to cross the doors that, for the sane, remain closed… but for the mad, are forever open.
