" It is impossible to convey the life-sensation of any given epoch of one's existence —
that which makes its truth, its meaning —
its subtle and penetrating essence.
It is impossible.
We live, as we dream — alone… "
Joseph Conrad, Heart of Darkness
Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.