in Thoreau’s Journal:
Listen in every zephyr for some reproof. It is the sweetest strain of the music. Its satire trembles round the world. We cannot touch a string––awake a sound but it reproves us….
Not a music to dance to, but to live by.
in Thoreau’s Journal:
Listen in every zephyr for some reproof. It is the sweetest strain of the music. Its satire trembles round the world. We cannot touch a string––awake a sound but it reproves us….
Not a music to dance to, but to live by.
