let the noon find thee by other lakes........ and the night overtake thee everywhere at home.............there are no larger fields than these, no worthier games that may be played.........grow wild according to thy nature, like these sedges and brakes which will never become English hay.......let the thunder rumble and take shelter under the cloud while they flee to carts and sheds .........let not to get a living by they trade but thy sport................enjoy the land but own it not ............through want of enterprise and faith men are where they are.......buying and selling and spending their lives like pitiful serfs!
-Thoreau
Devious Comments
beautiful.
I'm listening to Sigur Ros' Meo Blodnasir and fits perfectly.
How beautiful.
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and when the sun rises, she smiles.
by the way one of the most hope-filled jam-packed songs i can think of in my life as well! such beauty persists beyond compare in those songs.
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gather ye rosebuds while ye may.......olde tyme is still a flying.
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