I wait patiently, with no urgency. I have been granted all the time there is. I do not try to make anything of what I see. I hold no expectation or assumption that I know anything at all.
I'm still reading about Scott of the Antartic. Cardiff still breeds roaring plebs, howling for glory not bread. I'd translate it into Latin and adopt it as a motto if I wasn't so plebian myself.
No comments:
Post a Comment