Waves at Night
For a long time I will remember the waves at night in other countries, like I saw yesterday on Cape Hatteras. They were wine-dark and deep and like the sea off of Camburi, Sao Paulo, they seemed to go forever out to a boundless horizon.
My limitations made me dream of other places. But perhaps even what has been seen as my largest failure: Brazil, is an accomplishment I ought to be proud of. One thing literature has done for me, if it has done nothing else, is give me a sense of the world as vast and full of glittering meanings, or at least and maybe especially as good, of myself as good doing my best in a strangely unknown world.
That things might happen to me more often as they only sometimes do, with a force and persuasiveness which changes my whole life.