It is entirely conceivable that life’s splendour forever lies in wait about each one of us in all its fullness, but veiled from our view, deep down, invisible, far off. It is there, though, not hostile, not reluctant, not deaf. If you summon it by the right word, by its right name, it will come. This is the essence of magic, which does not create but summons.
Franz Kafka, October 18th 1921. The diaries of Franz Kafka: 1914-1923 ( in Goodreads for I haven’t read the book)
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