Tell me, enigmatic man, whom do you love best? Your father, your mother, your sister, or your brother? - I have neither father, nor mother, nor sister, nor brother. - Your friends? - You are using a word whose meaning to this day remains unknown to me. -Your country? - I do not know in which latitude it lies. - Beauty? - I would love her gladly, goddess and immortal. - Gold? - I hate it as you hate God. - Well then! What do you love, unfathomable stranger? - I love the clouds… the passing clouds … up there … up there … the marvelous clouds! ("The Stranger" by Charles Baudelaire)