"This is the paradox of the reading life. One must be disciplined. One must also be distractible. A definition of a classic might be: the book that makes you say, why on earth did I not read this earlier? But you could not have read it earlier. You were not ready. You had not yet been distracted by precisely the right distraction." —@timesflow.bsky.social via
"Vale Atque Ave
I shall not hear the wailing and the chants,
I shall not see the smoke’s thin, acrid spire,
Nor hear the long, low throbbing of the drums,
Nor cast one blossom on your funeral pyre.
My feet will not read out the ancient dust
That stirs about Benares’ mystic shrine,
Nor, when your ashes flutter to their rest,
May there attend them any prayer of mine:
Yet shall I hail you in the setting sun,
In every changing glory of the air,
And find you ever in each blade and bloom
That grows on earth. Beauty is everywhere."
—Gertrude Eileen Trevelyan via


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