ยท
If neither brass, nor marble, can withstand
The mortal force of Time’s destructive hand;
If mountains sink to vales, if cities die,
And less’ning rivers mourn their fountains dry;
When my old cassock, said a Welsh divine,
Is out at elbows, why should I repine?
“Some fathers hate to read but love to take the family on trips. Some children hate trips but love to read. Funny how often these find themselves passengers in the same automobile. I glimpsed the stupendous clearcut shoulders of the Rockies from between paragraphs of Madame Bovary. Cloud shadows roved languidly across her huge rock throat, traced her fir flanks. Since those days I do not look at hair on female flesh without thinking, Deciduous?”
Anne Carson | “Short Talk on Reading”