Tuesday, December 21, 2010

the key to the whole mystery

  This also happened to me at noon when I went for a walk in the mountains, stood half-way up the mountain-side, with huge, old, resinous pines all around me; high up on the top of a precipitous cliff there were the ruins of an old medieval castle; our little village was far, far below, hardly visible; the sun shone brightly, the sky was blue, and everything around was terribly still. … It was there that I seemed to hear some mysterious call to go somewhere, and I could not help feeling that if I went straight on and on, and kept going for a long, long time, I should reach the line where sky and earth met and find the key to the whole mystery there and at once discover new life, a life a thousand times more splendid and more tumultuous than ours.

The Idiot by Fyodor Dostoyevsky

image: (crashinglybeautiful, kateoplis)

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