It's easy to take pictures, assemble them, and see the Scrapbook of Reality unfolding its Truths and Balance Sheets, full of morality and credits. At least according the to the prevailing wind of the society, in footnote. And yet, and yet, the flow permits snapshots but it does not abide the Totality of Interpretations of Stoppages, for movement and minutes conspire to an Understanding Ongoing, a Knowledge Reserving Judgement to a day that will not finally arrive. Butterflies know it well, for the wind and weather must be a friend for death and re-birth to come to the individual brilliance, whose making is that of Continuance, Reticence, and Impulse. If Feeling is the stuff of Inclinations and the House of Whirls implies Destinations, the work of life, not of A Life, is to Converse, to be of the Back and the Forth, gaining nothing by ledges, and everything by Falling and Rising.
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