"For our part, when we feel, we
evaporate; ah, we breathe
ourselves out and away; with each new
we give off a fainter scent. True,
someone may tell us:
you're in my blood, this room, Spring
is filled with you . . . To what end?
He can't hold us,
we vanish within him and around him."
— Rainer Maria Rilke (Duino Elegies)