What a time; what an era. It is so great and precipitous. Is it rising or falling? Is it good or bad? Yet, considering all its novelty, I ask if it’s any different from ages before. Atop our walls of ignorance, of empty libraries, how do we know ourselves? I drive by a bum every day who sits by a tent and reads. I wonder at times what he reads, what he understands. I hope he comes out of the cold. I think of my life, the books I’ve yet to read; I wonder if there’s any worth in them.
Reflection on Our Era
Tale Told 