Monday, July 14

one who would not grow old

I have wished that the wind would stop blowing, that birds would stop dead still in their flight, without falling into the sea, that waves would stand ready to break upon shores without breaking, that all time, all impulse, all movement, mood, hungers, everything would stop and stand hushed and still for a moment.

-- Sherwood Anderson A Story Teller's Story

Sherwood Anderson