Boredom is the dream bird that hatches the egg of experience.
A rustling in the leaves drives him away.
We can speak without voice to the trees and the clouds and the waves of the sea.
Without words they respond through the rustling of leaves and the moving of clouds and the murmuring of the sea.
...and Jo laid the rustling sheets together with a careful hand, as one might shut the covers of a lovely romance, which holds the reader fast till the end comes, and he finds himself alone in the work-a-day world again.
Last Update: January, 2020