I think, ofttimes, that lives of men may be Likened to wandering winds that come and go Not knowing whence they rise, whither they blow O'er the vast globe, voiceful of grief or glee.
ExistentialismFateHuman conditionJourneyLifePoetryTransience
I think, ofttimes, that lives of men may be Likened to wandering winds that come and go Not knowing whence they rise, whither they blow O'er the vast globe, voiceful of grief or glee.
ExistentialismFateHuman conditionJourneyLifePoetryTransience
The metaphor is vague and offers no concrete guidance for living.
This is my world! within these narrow walls, I own a princely service.
These purblind Doomsters had as readily strown Blisses about my pilgrimage as pain.
Chorus: O suitably attired in leather boots Head of a traveller, wherefore seeking whom Whence by what way how purposed art thou come To this well-nightingaled…
Sometimes it is hard to criticize, one wants only to chronicle. The good and mediocre books come in from week to week, and I put them aside and read them and t…