[Poetry] may make us from time to time a little aware of the deeper unnamed feelings which form the substratum of our being, to which we rarely penetrate; for our lives are mostly a constant evasion of ourselves.
T.S.Eliot
Monday, November 19, 2012
On the sky ways again
Time to move again, time to fly, to spend endless hours waiting for your flight or running frantically from one end to the other of an airport. Time to move among new people and observe.
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