작가의 글

    Time is but the stream I go a-fishing in. I drink at it; 

     but while I drink I see the sandy bottom and detect how shallow it is.

     Its thin current slides away, but eternity remains.

     I would drink deeper; fish in the sky, whose bottom is pebbly with stars.

     I cannot count one. I know not the first letter of the alphabet. 

     I have always been regretting that I was not as wise as the day I was born. 

     The intellect is a cleaver; it discerns and rifts it way into the secret of things. 

     I do not wish to be any more busy with my hands than is necessary.

     My head is hands and feet.

                                                   From ‘Where I lived, and what I lived for’.

                                                                         In “Walden” by Henry David Thoreau