Still, looking through the old volumes was soothing, because thinking of the past made the present seem a little less real.
Still, looking through the old volumes was soothing, because thinking of the past made the present seem a little less real.
Thinking of death--strange, beautiful, terrible and a long way off--made me feel happier than ever.
We were restless for ages...After a while I heard an owl hooting and calmed myself by thinking of it flying over the dark fields - and then I remembered it would be pouncing on mice. I love owls, but I wish God had made them vegetarian.
I could hear rain still pouring from the gutters and a thin branch scraping against one of the windows; but the church seemed completely cut off from the restless day outside--just as I felt cut off from the church. I thought: I am a restlessness inside a stillness inside a restlessness.
Just to be in love seemed the most blissful luxury I had ever known. The thought came to me that perhaps it is the loving that counts, not the being loved in return -- that perhaps true loving can never know anything but happiness. For a moment I felt that I had discovered a great truth.
My hand is very tired but I want to go on writing. I keep resting and thinking. All day I have been two people - the me imprisoned in yesterday and the me out here on the mound; and now there is a third me trying to get in - the me in what is going to happen next.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories