Fall is the season of falling. Falling leaves. Sap no longer running. Flowers fading. Red, yellow, purple dying into brown.
Each season reflects the movement of the soul, the eternal motion of the tides we sense within ourselves. 177 more words
“Don’t the overwhelming majority believe that mankind is the crowning achievement of Creation, that man is better than everything, even things we haven’t yet investigated? And don’t those people who aren’t able to escape the bonds of their own ego think that the entire Universe, even the countless worlds of outer space, is just a backdrop for this ego? 20 more words
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“Rather, it had been just one of those days which for a long while now had fallen to my lot; the moderately pleasant, the wholly bearable and tolerable, lukewarm days of a discontented middle-aged man; days without special pains, without special cares, without particular worry, without despair; days when I calmly wonder, objective and fearless, whether it isn’t time to follow the example of Adalbert Stifter and have an accident while shaving.”
Nothing against baby Jesus—I’m a major fan, actually, of the not-necessarily divine version—but, look, sit me down on Christmas Eve with my daughter in my lap, hold out the Gospel of Luke in one hand, Adalbert Stifter’s 237 more words