Time is but the stream I go a-fishing in. I drink at it; but
while I drink I see the sandy bottom and detect how shallow
it is. Its thin current slides away, but eternity remains. I would
drink deeper; fish in the sky, whose bottom is pebbly with stars.
I cannot count one. I know not the first letter of the alphabet.
I have always been regretting that I was not as wise as the
day I was born.
source: Henry David Thoreau, Walden
image: Eddie Two Hawks, Peace River, Florida 2003
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