… I hear the din of the human crowd around me and see how people who are awake live, and I realize that their lives are not made to measure, that they don’t shatter like dreams, like visions, that their lives are perpetually renewed, every hour in them different from the one before, whereas the timid daydream is horribly monotonous, a slave to the shadows …
Excerpt from Dostoyevsky’s “White Nights”
