A flower that you admire breaking through the concrete and rising, transforming nothing into beauty. A conversation lasting until dawn where no one wants to convince anyone, no one wants to steal from anyone, no one wants to impose themselves and lead. The group that still gathers, whether it’s been ten or twenty years, and is still held together by the warmth of those days defined by the law of extravagance.

A glass of ouzo in Messolonghi, Good Friday. The two or three things (ideas? dreams? obsessions?) that passed from the soul into the blood... For these, the words, for the Solomonic "riches" of life. And for the others too, the gray and the distressing, of life as well, whatever is born from the multifaceted power and its holders: the "Necessary and Great" shepherds (locals and foreigners), the politicians, the media, the "average person," the counters of "common taste," the advertisers, the eco-destroyers, the "ideologists" of intolerance and alienation, the grand dreamers of the Olympics, the demagogues, the profaners, the warlike "archangels" of the New Order.

One hundred thirty articles published in the Sunday editions of "Kathimerini," from 1995 until the first Sunday of 2001, except for two that were first printed in the pages of "The Fortnightly Citizen." A printed thank you to the unknown reader.

[Excerpt from the text on the back cover of the edition]