What a way to live one's life, in a cabin made of wood; never to be governed by: "I have to! I must! I should!" To set one's sights on the day's needs as one's only master, and not be told, "you move too slow, you must live life faster." To start the day by a cue from rays of the rising sun. To end the day when the day ends, not only just've begun.


5.30 this morning and the blackbird was singing in Canterbury.
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The perfect life is written in a poem.
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