See, here's the thing. At one point of my life, I bought this notebook and I started copying out phrases, sentences, sayings that I liked into said notebook. I found it recently. It didn't last long (my enthusiasms never do) but there it was, filled with Emerson quotes (I was a pseudo-Transcendentalist for a while without really understanding what being a Transcendentalist meant, except in the being true to yourself, which to me, meant being grumpy most of the time) and this one here. I loved it so much I have to share it. With all of you.
Five mysteries hold the keys to the unseen: the act of love, and the birth of a baby, and the contemplation of great art, and being in the presence of death or disaster, and hearing the human voice lifted in song. These are the occasions when the bolts of the universe fly open and we are given a glimpse of what is hidden; and eff of the ineffable. Glory bursts on us in such hours: the dark glory of earthquakes, the slippery wonder of new life, the radiance of Vina's singing.
The Ground Beneath Her Feet, Salman Rushdie
Nice. I still re-read Walden occasionally, even while knowing Thoreau was not exactly an icon of all that he preached. Like any other real person, he was not entirely self-consistent, even with issues he cared deeply about. Nothing quite defines us like our contradictions...
ReplyDeleteWow. My contradictions sure do define me...like two diametrically opposite blogs! :-)
ReplyDeleteBardzo fajnie napisane. Pozdrawiam serdecznie.
ReplyDeleteThank you. Dziękuję Ci.
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