"But finally you find that you have people of flesh and blood on your hands, people with will and an individual sensibility of their own, made out of component parts you are unable to change, manipulate or distort." (Harold Pinter)
In the morning he could sense the imminent thaw, the passing of the artic air, of nature on her guard. His aim, now, was to lose the dark spirit of winter, find the strength to believe, to resume the dream.
For death, he knew, is not the end of life, but the necessary gate to a new one…
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I like this for its gentle hopefulness.
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There is great wisdom in your post.
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Your words carry images of hopefulness that speak to me strongly…
Merci 🙂
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