(no subject)

Happy Birthday, grynz.

I hope the day is a good one -- you deserve it.

(no subject)

Wind pressed the boughs, the withered leaves were shaking... A star was shaking. A light was waking. Wind was quaking. The star was far. The night, the light. The light was bright. A chant, a song, the slow dance of the little things within him. The star over the town, the light over the hill, the sod over Ben, night over all. His mind fumbled with little things. Over us all is something. Star, night, earth, light... light... O lost! ... a stone... a leaf... a door... O ghost! ... a light... a song... a light... a light swings over the hill... over us all... a star shines over the town... over us all.... a light.

We shall not come again. We never shall come back again. But over us all, over us all, over us all is -- something.

[...] The laurel, the lizard, and the stone will come no more. The women weeping at the gate have gone and will not come again. And pain and pride and death will pass, and will not come again. And light and dawn will pass, and the star and the cry of a lark will pass, and will not come again. And we shall pass, and will not come again.

-- Thomas Wolfe, Look Homeward, Angel

Sometimes the first words you truly learn are all that you can offer. I have nothing else to say on this subject today.