“… There is n…

“… There is no sense to the massed stridulations of cicadas; their skipped beats, enjambments, and failed alterations jangle your spirits, as though each of those thousand insects, each with identical feelings, were stubbornly deaf to the others, and loudly alone.”

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“…but I might…

“…but I might learn something of mindlessness, something of the purity of living in the physical senses and the dignity of living without bias or motive.”
Annie Dillard, Teaching a Stone to Talk