Wither the wind bloweth

Posted on March 2, 2010

It is strange to me that my thoughts can fly like leaves before a storm, rushing and tumbling in the terror and despair of the calamity that drives them on. Each leaf itself is an inconsequential tatter, but they flee like an army in route, and it is hard not to run with them. Yet I have no idea what menace this tempest threatens to unleash.

Knowledge has no part of panic; it is sudden apprehension of a profound and total ignorance; oblivion.

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