Sep. 3rd, 2020

eor: (books)
Derien and I are both reading a book by Henry Beston from 1948 called Northern Farm. Our bookmarks playing leapfrog through the pages. Each chapter has bits of farm diary (concatenations of short pithy sentences explaining happenings in a matter of fact way) mixed with longer more poetical paragraphs covering the same period often from a more philosophical perspective. I really like the farm diary bits, but sometimes the art gets to be too arty in the other bits.

But I thought this particular bit was worth passing along:

"No age in history can afford to lay too much emphasis on 'security.' The truth is that from our first breath to our last we inhabit insecurely a world which must of its transitory nature be insecure, and that moreover any security we do achieve is but a kind of an illusion. While admitting that a profound instinct towards such safety as we can achieve is part of our animal being, let us also confess that the challenge involved in mere existence is the source of many of the greater virtues of human character."

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