Friday, March 04, 2005

“Time is but the stream I go a-fishing in. I drink at it; but while I drink I see the sandy bottom and detect how shallow it is. Its thin current slides away, but eternity remains. I would drink deeper; fish in the sky, whose bottom is pebbly with stars. I cannot count one. I know not the first letter of the alphabet. I have always been regretting that I was not as wise as the day I was born. The intellect is a cleaver; it discerns and rifts its way into the secret of things.”
—Henry David Thoreau, Walden


Blogger Hamuksha said...

We, who pass by most and see less, need to be overwhelmed with those revelations made by your discerning glimpses, your nourishing captures.

March 28, 2005 at 8:15 AM  

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