[b]Thornton Wilder
The highest tribute to the dead is not grief but gratitude.[/b]
You know, If they deserve it.
The knowledge that she would never be loved in return acted upon her ideas as a tide acts upon cliffs.
Analogy: you’re the cliffs, dasein’s the tide.
We all know that something is eternal. And it ain’t houses and it ain’t names, and it ain’t earth, and it ain’t even the stars . . . everybody knows in their bones that something is eternal, and that something has to do with human beings. All the greatest people ever lived have been telling us that for five thousand years and yet you’d be surprised how people are always losing hold of it. There’s something way down deep that’s eternal about every human being.
Yes, yes, I once actually believed that too.
Only it seems to me that once in your life before you die you ought to see a country where they don’t talk in English and don’t even want to.
Hell, there must be at least one, right?
Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it?
Let’s all decide what that means.
Good-by, Good-by, world. Good-by, Grover’s Corners…Mama and Papa. Good-by to clocks ticking and Mama’s sunflowers. And food and coffee. And new-ironed dresses and hot baths and sleeping and waking up. Oh, earth, you’re too wonderful for anybody to realize you.
How deep [or shallow] is this?