Here and there on the branch of an oak a congress of leaves still clung, rigid as flakes of bronze.

You have stirred the soil with your plow, my friend. It will never be the same again.

a man can break God's laws and be forgiven. That's what they teach us. But when he breaks Nature's laws, there's no forgiveness - and there's no escape. Sooner or later he pays the penalty, or his children pay it - or his children's children. It doesn't matter much. It must be paid.

God, what pathetic creatures had inherited the earth, to walk a little while with their eyes upon the stars and turn their gaze too soon upon the ground that held their feet!

By mid-morning a rain as fine as silk spills was weaving over the lake.

But one had to go back to the beginning of things, always. Trace the thread of life - find the knot - untangle it.

Here and there on the branch of an oak a congress of leaves still clung, rigid as flakes of bronze.