Sad, kada se ne nadam više da ću hodati obalom u Skagenu, ili sedeti i luci u Tronjemu, ili igrati sa studentkinjama u Upsali, sad mi se eto stalno vraća misao, da je trebalo živeti, dublje, zanosnije, i ne tako brzo. Kajem se što sam tako olako odlazio. Misao na smrt, rađa misao na trag konja, koji nestaje u snegu, kad jahači odu.

-Miloš Crnjanski

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