Could my proud loneliness be merely an illusion?

What is aesthetically beautiful, should not be able to be understood fully: by its mysterious character it should leave behind a vaguely pleasant feeling.

From the deepest silence between us arose uncertain, utterly vague and, as it were, whispered varieties on the theme ‘smile’.

And she was really good at that: even since she was a little girl, she could eliminate the hours, knew how to kill the minutes. Without them suffering from it, she put them to sleep.