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The simplest truth about man is that he is a very strange being; almost in the sense of being a stranger on the earth. In all sobriety, he has much more of the external appearance of one bringing alien habits from another land than of a mere growth of this one. He cannot sleep in his own skin; he cannot trust his own instincts. He is at once a creator moving miraculous hands and fingers and a kind of cripple. He is wrapped in artificial bandages called clothes; he is propped on artificial crutches called furniture. His mind has the same doubtful liberties and the same wild limitations. Alone among the animals, he is shaken with the beautiful madness called laughter; as if he had caught sight of some secret in the very shape of the universe hidden from the universe itself. Alone among the animals he feels the need of averting his thought from the root realities of his own bodily being; of hiding them as in the presence of some higher possibility which creates the mystery of shame.
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human
pilgrim
stranger
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G.K. Chesterton |
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We were two of a kind, the only difference being that he was reverential before all the traditional word magic, and I would steal it if I could. He came to the tradition as a pilgrim, I as a pickpocket.
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pilgrim
reverence
theft
tradition
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Wallace Stegner |
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Faint not, poor soul, in God still trust; Fear not the things thou suffer must; For, whom he loves he doth chastise, And then all tears wipes from their eyes. William Bradford Plymouth Colony Governor
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religion
colony
governor
mayflower
pilgrim
indians
puritan
survival
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Nathaniel Philbrick |