In some mysterious way woods have never seemed to me to be static things. In physical terms I move through them yet in metaphysical ones they seem to move through me.
Life has loveliness to sell all beautiful and splendid things blue waves whitened on a cliff soaring fire that sways and sings and children's faces looking up holding wonder like a cup.
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The flower is the poetry of reproduction. It is an example of the eternal seductiveness of life.