What is the use of a look in my eyes so deep that, in order to avoid scorn and anger, I have to turn my gaze to the ground?  What fire do my eyes carry within them that, if I look with just a little passion at my lover, it causes me to blush?  This is why the man who sparks my passion, to whom I’ve given my soul, stands in front of me, tosses his hat at my feet, and says to me: ‘Woman, don’t look at me anymore because your eyes are lightning and they’re burning me alive with desire.’ (Granados / Periquet : ‘El Mirar de la Maja’ from Tonadillas)

“As we crossed the Colorado-Utah border I saw God in the sky in the form of huge gold sunburning clouds above the desert that seemed to point a finger at me and say, “Pass here and go on, you’re on the road to heaven.” ― Jack Kerouac, On the Road

Put her on the plane, Rick,

And go have yourself a drink

You both know that integrity

Doesn’t need to stop and think

Put her on the plane, Rick,

And cut yourself a break

You both know that honesty

All depends on what’s at stake

Put her on the plane, Rick

And wave a long goodbye

You both know it gets easier

As time, time, time, time, time goes by