No single thing abides; but all things flow. Fragment to fragment clings – the things thus grow Until we know them and name them. By degrees They melt, and are no more the things we know.
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Anand Thakur
No single thing abides; but all things flow. Fragment to fragment clings – the things thus grow Until we know them and name them. By degrees They melt, and are no more the things we know.
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All life is a struggle in the dark.
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Forbear to spew out reason from your mind, but rather ponder everything with keen judgment; and if it seems true, own yourself vanquished, but, if it is false, gird up your loins to fight.
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It is a pleasure for to sit at ease Upon the land, and safely for to see How other folks are tossed on the seas That with the blustering winds turmoiled be.
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The first-beginnings of things cannot be distinguished by the eye.
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Continual dropping wears away a stone.
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Globed from the atoms falling slow or swift I see the suns, I see the systems lift Their forms; and even the systems and the suns Shall go back slowly to the eternal drift.
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Meantime, when once we know from nothing still Nothing can be create, we shall divine More clearly what we seek: those elements From which alone all things created are, And how accomplished by no tool of Gods.
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Nothing from nothing ever yet was born.
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So much wrong could religion induce.
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There can be no centre in infinity.
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These the senses we trust, first, last, and always.
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We notice that the mind grows with the body, and with it decays.
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For out of doubt In these affairs ’tis each man’s will itself That gives the start, and hence throughout our limbs Incipient motions are diffused.
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Therefore there is not anything which returns to nothing, but all things return dissolved into their elements.
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Mother of Aeneas, pleasure of men and gods.
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