McHenry 

...

      An overdose of silence, lividly obscure. In its own way following closely between the rapid, occasional rumbling of the wagons, a truck roars by - ridiculous, mechanical echo of what goes by, real in the near distance of the skies. 

      Again, without warning, magnetic light gushes forth, winking. The heart beats a short gulp. A bell jar overhead breaks into huge splinters of the dome. A new cloth of bad rain strikes the sound of the ground. 

      [The boss Vasques'] lived face is falsely green and shaken. I observe him there in the dificulty of breathing, with fraternal feeling, knowing I shall also be like that.

...

in «PROSE OF BERNARDO SOARES» 
by Bernardo Soares

[...]

May the Gods preserve in me, until the hour in which this aspect of mine ceases, the clear and sunny notion of external reality, the instinct of my unimportance, the comfort of being little and being able to think about being happy.

[...]

in «PROSE OF BERNARDO SOARES»
by Bernardo Soares

Ginette Callaway , Asparagus, Gourmet Art

 I grow irritated by the happiness of all these men who don't know they're unhappy. Their human life is full of all that would constitute a series of anxieties for a truly sensitive nature. But, as their true life is vegetal, what they suffer passes through them without touching their soul, and they live a life comparable to that of a man with a toothache who could have been given a fortune - the authentic fortune of being alive without being conscious of it, the greatest gift the gods give us because it is the gift that makes us resemble them: like them, although in a different way, beyond happiness and pain. 

      That's why, in spite of everything, I love them all. My dear vegetables!

in «PROSE OF BERNARDO SOARES» by Bernardo Soares,
[Fernando Pessoa Poems]

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