““The street heaves and winds, burns and bumps, but behind the glass the locksmith, the old curator of timepieces, stands motionless with a single protruding eye, one amazing eye which peers into the mystery, the secret hearts of clocks, and looks deeply in until the elusive butterfly of time in its measure is trapped in his forehead and the wings of the watch beat." -from "To Don Asterio Alarcón, Clocksmith of Valparaíso””
