Here, hidden, in this solitude, the flowers are not lonely; they conspire, each with its own perfume, each with colors that blend, a brotherhood of essence, a warm, silent fraternal plot.
- Vicente Aleixandre
Here, hidden, in this solitude, the flowers are not lonely; they conspire, each with its own perfume, each with colors that blend, a brotherhood of essence, a warm, silent fraternal plot.