a view of the margaret mitchell house in the spring of 1987----and another in 1988 after the buildings in front of it (which were there when mitchell was living in the building) were torn down---twelve years ago about this time, the house had just burned down for the second time and i was wondering what i was going to do with all of that furniture----
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tomitron
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5/26/2008 07:16:00 PM
Each of us is all the sums he has not counted: subtract us into nakedness and night again, and you shall see begin in Crete four thousand years ago the love that ended yesterday in Texas.
The seed of our destruction will blossom in the desert, the alexin of our cure grows by a mountain rock, and our lives are haunted by a Georgia slattern, because a London cutpurse went unhung. Each moment is the fruit of forty thousand years. The minute-winning days, like flies, buzz home to death, and every moment is a window on all time.
john northbrooke, c. 1570
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