The fatal metaphor of progress, which means leaving things behind us, has
utterly obscured the real idea of growth, which means leaving things inside
us. The heart of the tree remains the same, however many rings are added to
it; and a man cannot leave his heart behind by running hard with his legs.
In the core of all culture are the things that may be said, in every sense,
to be learned by the heart.
G.K. Chesterton"The Romance of Rhyme"
in On
Lying In Bed and Other Essays
No comments:
Post a Comment