This accidental meeting of possibilities calls itself I. I ask: what am I doing here? And, at once, this I becomes unreal.
Dag HammarskjoldBeneath the hush a whisper from long ago, promising peace of mind and a burden shared. No peace which is not peace for all, no rest until all has been fulfilled.
Dag HammarskjoldMaturity - among other things, the unclouded happiness of the child at play, who takes it for granted that he is at one with his play-mates.
Dag HammarskjoldSo rests the sky against the earth. The dark still tarn in the lap of the forest. As a husband embraces his wife's body in faithful tenderness, so the bare ground and trees are embraced by the still, high, light of the morning. I feel an ache of longing to share in this embrace, to be united and absorbed. A longing like carnal desire, but directed towards earth, water, sky, and returned by the whispers of the trees, the fragrance of the soil, the caresses of the wind, the embrace of water and light. Content? No, no, no - but refreshed, rested - while waiting.
Dag Hammarskjold