On the meridian of time, there is no injustice: there is only the poetry of motion creating the illusion of truth and drama.
On the meridian of time, there is no injustice: there is only the poetry of motion creating the illusion of truth and drama.
Every day we slaughter our finest impulses. That is why we get a heart-ache when we read those lines written by the hand of a master and recognize them as our own, as the tender shoots which we stifled because we lacked the faith to believe in our own powers, our own criterion of truth and beauty.
What does it matter how one comes by the truth so long as one pounces upon it and lives by it?
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories