13th August 2013

“The Portuguese call it “saudade”: a longing for something so indefinite as to be indefinable. Love affairs, miseries of life, the way things were, people already dead, those who left and the ocean that tossed them on the shores of a different land – all things born of the soul that can only be felt.” 

Anthony De Sa, Barnacle Love

I don’t think I’ve ever come across a word for this in any of the languages I know.

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