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“But isn’t waiting itself and longing a wonder, being played on by wind, sun, and shade?”

The more time passes since my first read of Pilgrim, the more I realize that it changed me, and the more I find myself re-reading it.   I often return to chapter twelve (the source of this post’s title), or to sobering chapter thirteen:

“Out here on the rocks, the people don’t mean to grapple, to crush and starve and betray, but with all the goodwill in the world, we do, there’s no other way.  We want it; we take it out of each other’s hides; we chew the bitter skins the rest of our lives.”

It’s better in context.  You should buy it.  Or at least borrow mine.

 

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About secondinaseriesofsix

My job and my family keep me inspired and laughing by turns. Here's a taste.

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