The fatal metaphor of progress, which means leaving things behind us, has utterly obscured the real idea of growth, which means leaving things inside us.
The fatal metaphor of progress, which means leaving things behind us, has utterly obscured the real idea of growth, which means leaving things inside us.
Getting facts from my files would be instantaneous If it weren't for the drawers marked "miscellaneous".
Are we not drawn onward, we few drawn onward to new era?
Song, from Pippa Passes The year's at the spring, And day's at the morn; Morning's at seven; The hill-side's dew-pearled;…