"When the great earth, abandoning day, rolls up the deep of the heavens and the universe, a new door opens for the human spirit, and there are few so clownish that some awareness of the mystery of being does not touch them as they gaze. For a moment of night we have a glimpse of ourselves and of our world islanded in its stream of stars - pilgrims of mortality, voyaging between horizons across eternal seas of space and time. Fugitive though the instant may be, the spirit of man is, during it, ennobled by a genuine moment of emotional dignity, and poetry makes it own both the human spirit and experience."
- "The Outermost House", Henry Beston
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