November 22
"She
used to drag her mattress beside her low window and lie awake for a long while,
vibrating with excitement, as a machine vibrates from speed. Life rushed
in upon her through that window - or so it seemed. In reality, of course,
life rushes from within, not from without. There is no work of art so big or so
beautiful that is was not once all contained in some youthful body, like this
one which lay on the floor in the moonlight, pulsing with ardor and
anticipation." (Willa Cather (1873 - 1947) The Song of the Lark)
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