"Love, from its awful throne of patient power
|In the wise heart, from the last giddy hour|
|Of dread endurance, from the slippery, steep,|
And narrow verge of crag-like agony, springs
and folds over the world its healing wings."
--Percy B. Shelley
I'm feeling contemplative today. I might immerse myself in Shelley, or Poe, or Old Shakes, or Plato, or Dreiser. Maybe I'll sit under the sun and swaying trees and lose myself in some other place. Maybe I'll fall in love with some dashing literary hero, or analyze the relationship between an antagonist and his mother. Maybe I'll cry, or laugh, or watch humanity unfold and let it flourish.
Read, guys! Few things in the world make us great, but someone who is well-read has such capacity to know what greatness is, and what it does in the world.