Welcome, October

 “The skies they were ashen and sober;        The leaves they were crispéd and sere—        The leaves they were withering and sere;  It was night in the lonesome October        Of my most immemorial year;  It was hard by the dim lake of Auber,        In the misty mid region of Weir—  It was down by the dank tarn of Auber,        In the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir.” (First stanza of “Ulalume” by Edgar Allen Poe)

Seneca, Moral Letter 32, “On Progress”

 “This is sound practice—to refrain from associating with men of different stamp and different aims.

. . . life is so short; and we make it still shorter by our unsteadiness. . . 


. . . I pray that you may get such control over yourself that your mind, now shaken by wandering thoughts, may at last come to rest and be steadfast, that it may be content with itself and, having attained an understanding of what things are truly good. . . “ 


(Seneca, Moral Letter 32, “On Progress)

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