Un imprudent bonheur

“He smiles and suddenly physically feels the smile on his face and like the cautious start of a harmony: sentences that he repeats not without pleasure, tunes that pass through his body. He is the others, those who bequeathed him exact words, those who added to reality painted images of reality or gave a mysterious and lasting sonorous body to desire. Like a dark room in which a rectangle of light opens, something in him, imperceptibly, lights up. The smallest window can contain the whole sky.” 

Source: Hector Biancotti Le Traité des saisons