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Nothing is so beautiful as spring - when weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush; Thrush's eggs look little low heavens, and thrush through the echoing timber does so rinse and wring the ear, it strikes like lightning to hear him sing.
- Gerard Manley HopkinsPhoto by Kace Rodriguez on Unsplash
Nothing is so beautiful as spring - when weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush; Thrush's eggs look little low heavens, and thrush through the echoing timber does so rinse and wring the ear, it strikes like lightning to hear him sing.
- Gerard Manley HopkinsI don't understand the notion that modern farming is anything do to with...
There is no glory in star or blossom till looked upon by a loving eye; There...
What the caterpillar calls the end of the world the master calls a butterfly.
Our character is not so much the product of race and heredity as of those...
I try--without success--to stop finding reasons for vanity in anything. When I happen to manage it nonetheless, I feel that I no longer belong to the mortal gang. I am above everything then, above the Gods themselves. Perhaps that is what death is: a sensation of great, of extreme superiority.
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