"Cyrano: There. There is our soul. The same reed, the same fingers which have piped us into combat, call us softly home, in our thoughts. This is no longer the shrill call to attack, it is every shepherd who ever inhabited our land, whispering his sheep to fold. Listen. It is your hillside, your earth, your forest - your younger brother, suntanned under his red woolen cap. It is the green solitude of nights you spent beside the Sordogne. Listen my countrymen. It is our country calling."

"My life's work has been to prompt others and be forgotten. Remember that night when Christian came to your balcony? That moment sums up my life. While I was below in the shadows, others climbed up to kiss the sweet rose."

"I made a mess of everything, even my death."

When you "finally" get what you wanted...is it really, truly what you expected? And how do you answer the question of "now what?" Or, once satisfied, does the seeking mind, the curious driving self simply drift off, the creative drive seeping away like water into sand?

Sooo beautiful.

When you "finally" get what you wanted...is it really, truly what you expected? And how do you answer the question of "now what?"

It reminds me of something I had read in the book "a heart so white" by Javier Marías,maybe because he is Spanish like you or maybe because these words are indeed from this book.
If these are your words and you haven't read the book,you should read it.It's incredible!! The translation I had was very very good but it's not the same as reading it in your mother language.