Lawrence THE HANDLE, which varies in length according to the height of its user, and in some cases is made by that user to his or her specifications, is like most of the other parts of the tool in that it has a name and thus a character of its own. I call it the snath, as do most of us in the UK, though variations include the snathe, the snaithe, the snead, and the sned.
I revere them when they live in tribes and families, in forests and groves.
And even more I revere them when they stand alone. They are like lonely persons. Not like hermits who have stolen away out of some weakness, but like great, solitary men, like Beethoven and Nietzsche.
In their highest boughs the world rustles, their roots rest in infinity; but they do not lose themselves there, they struggle with all the force of their lives for one thing only: Nothing is holier, nothing is more exemplary than a beautiful, strong tree.
When a tree is cut down and reveals its naked death-wound to the sun, Collected essays of aldous huxley can read its whole history in the luminous, inscribed disk of its trunk: And every young farmboy knows that the hardest and noblest wood has the narrowest rings, that high on the mountains and in continuing danger the most indestructible, the strongest, the ideal trees grow.
Whoever knows how to speak to them, whoever knows how to listen to them, can learn the truth. They do not preach learning and precepts, they preach, undeterred by particulars, the ancient law of life. A kernel is hidden in me, a spark, a thought, I am life from eternal life.
The attempt and the risk that the eternal mother took with me is unique, unique the form and veins of my skin, unique the smallest play of leaves in my branches and the smallest scar on my bark.
I was made to form and reveal the eternal in my smallest special detail. My strength is trust. I know nothing about my fathers, I know nothing about the thousand children that every year spring out of me. I live out the secret of my seed to the very end, and I care for nothing else.
I trust that God is in me. I trust that my labor is holy.
Out of this trust I live. When we are stricken and cannot bear our lives any longer, then a tree has something to say to us: Life is not easy, life is not difficult. Those are childish thoughts.
Let God speak within you, and your thoughts will grow silent. You are anxious because your path leads away from mother and home. But every step and every day lead you back again to the mother. Home is neither here nor there.
Home is within you, or home is nowhere at all. A longing to wander tears my heart when I hear trees rustling in the wind at evening. If one listens to them silently for a long time, this longing reveals its kernel, its meaning.
It is not so much a matter of escaping from one's suffering, though it may seem to be so. It is a longing for home, for a memory of the mother, for new metaphors for life. Every path leads homeward, every step is birth, every step is death, every grave is mother.+ free ebooks online.
Did you know that you can help us produce ebooks by proof-reading just one page a day? Go to: Distributed Proofreaders. Collected Essays by Aldous Huxley Back Cover: All over the English-speaking world critics have greeted these essays with such comments as "brilliant provocative magnificent." Many find that Huxley is the finest essayist since Montaigne.
It . The Collected Short Stories of Aldous Huxley () consists of twenty stories compiled from five of Huxley's earlier collections and one from his novel Crome Yellow.
It was published by Harper & Row in the US and Chatto & Windus in the torosgazete.com published: More than a Clever Man Collected Essays. by Aldous Huxley. Harper and Brothers. pp. $ When people told me I was clever to.
RAVE NEW WORLD REVISITED  by Aldous Huxley. Contents Foreword I Over-Population II Quantity, Quality, Morality III Over-Organization IV Propaganda in a Democratic Society V Propaganda Under a Dictatorship VI The Arts of Selling VII Brainwashing VIII Chemical Persuasion IX Subconscious Persuasion X Hypnopaedia XI Education for Freedom XII What Can Be Done?.
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