"An idea no longer shrouded in mist, through wave or ether comes to me, like a star from high up in the skies, or a pearl from the bottom of the sea." - Victor Hugo (Les rayons et les ombres)
To be or not to be. Was that the question?
The words have changed since last night.
They generally do.
The fox is too wily to come out of his hole to see the question nailed to the tree.
Perhaps it was a hollow tree.
He wasn't looking at the question. He just went hunting.
Maybe he heeded the trembling and the banging, and being a wily old fox he heeded these signs, and he didn't hang around questioning these things . . .
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