I’m on the lookout for things that speak to me.
Sometimes it’s razzle-dazzle, but, more often, it’s not.
Razzle-dazzle is often like a Chinese meal; it may taste good, but you’re hungry again in two hours.
The things that speak to me are often timeless and last awhile.
I rather like this poem, one by Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844–1889), a Brit who sadly spent less time on Earth than he might have.