Sunday, February 27, 2005


I lay on the bowsprit, with the water foaming into spume under me, the masts with every sail white in the moonlight towering above me. I became drunk with the beauty and singing rhythm of it, and for a moment lost myself—actually lost my life. I was set free . . . dissolved in the sea, became white sails and flying spray, became beauty and rhythm and the high dim-starred sky. . . . I belonged within a unity and joy to life itself. EUGENE O’NEILL (1888 - 1953)

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