
Originally Posted by
Orlando
But Time, unfortunately, though it makes animals and vegetables bloom and fade, with amazing punctuality, has no such simple effect upon the mind of man. The mind of man, moreover, works with equal strangeness upon the body of time. An hour, once it lodges in the queer element of the human spirit, may be stretched to fifty or a hundred times its clock length; on the other hand, an hour may be accurately represented on the timepieze of the mind by one second.
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The nerve which controls the pen winds itself about every fibre of our being, threads the heart,...
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'It is the moor. I am nature's bride,' she whispered, giving herself in rapture to the cold embraces of the grass as she lay folded in her cloak in the hollow by the pool. 'Here will I lie. (A feather fell upon her brow.) I have found a greener laurel than the bay. My forehead will be cool always. There are wild birds' feathers - the owl's, the nightjar's. I shall dream wild dreams. My hands shall wear no wedding ring,'
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'I have sought happiness through many ages and not found it; fame and missed it; love and not known it, life and --- behold, death is better.