"What is to come is in it," said Bernard. "That is the last drop and the brightest that we let fall like some supernatural quicksilver into the swelling and splendid moment created by us from Percival. What is to come? I ask, brushing the crumbs from my waistcoat, what is outside? We have proved, sitting eating, sitting talking, that we can add to the treasury of moments. We are not slaves bounds to suffer incessantly unrecorded petty blows on our bent backs. We are not sheep either, following a master. We are creators. We too have made something that will join the innumerable congregations of past time. We too, as we put on our hats and push open the door, stride not into chaos, but into a world that our own force can subjugate and make part of the illuminated and everlasting road."
The Waves, Virginia Woolf |
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Where else can I better celebrate the winter? |
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 Highwayman- JC, KK, WJ, WN |
December 23 , 2006 |
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