Tuesday, March 8



"The farm brook ran down from the mountain in a straight
line for the fold, then swerved to the west to go its way
down into the marshes. There were two knee-high falls in
it and two pools, knee-deep. At the bottom there was
shingle, pebbles and sand. It ran in many curves. Each
curve had its own tone, but not one of them was dull;
the brook was merry and music-loving, like youth, but
yet with various strings, and it played its music without
thought of any audience and did not care though no one
heard for a hundred years, like a true poet."

--Halldór Laxness, Independent People (1946)

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