I had visions of renting a bike to pootle up and down the Mosel. Apparently the river is unusually high. Here's the bike path.
And So It Begins. How Does It End?
20 hours ago
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But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation,
With an alien people clutching their gods.
I should be glad of another death.
TS Eliot, Journey of the Magi
All human beings, driven as they are at different speeds by the same Furies, are at close range equally extraordinary.
Nick Jenkins, for Anthony Powell
I was interested in your remarks about the writer as poser, because, of course, all writing is both a mask and an unveiling, and the question of honesty is uppermost..
EB White, letter to his biographer
I wanted something seemingly artless and pedestrian to surprise the reader by conveying so much more. In other words, I wanted a poem a dog can understand.
that things are not so ill with you and me as they might have been, is half owing to the number who lived faithfully a hidden life, and rest in unvisited tombs.
The achievements of the worldly are failures for monks; and the achievements of monks are failures for the worldly.
St. Maximus
Decades of accretions may be found below my other perch in the noosphere, here.
Nasturtiums may be cast upon dkretzmann at gmail dot com.
Desultory chirps at @dotkaye
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.
With an alien people clutching their gods.
I should be glad of another death.
TS Eliot, Journey of the Magi
All human beings, driven as they are at different speeds by the same Furies, are at close range equally extraordinary.
Nick Jenkins, for Anthony Powell
I was interested in your remarks about the writer as poser, because, of course, all writing is both a mask and an unveiling, and the question of honesty is uppermost..
EB White, letter to his biographer
I wanted something seemingly artless and pedestrian to surprise the reader by conveying so much more. In other words, I wanted a poem a dog can understand.
Charles Simic, interview in Paris Review.
that things are not so ill with you and me as they might have been, is half owing to the number who lived faithfully a hidden life, and rest in unvisited tombs.
George Eliot
The achievements of the worldly are failures for monks; and the achievements of monks are failures for the worldly.
St. Maximus
Decades of accretions may be found below my other perch in the noosphere, here.
Nasturtiums may be cast upon dkretzmann at gmail dot com.
Desultory chirps at @dotkaye
Cats laugh and the horses in the streets shy nervously whenever Google suggests monetizing this blog. Therefore a license,
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.
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