In these days of coronavirus uncertainty and risk, my thoughts are drawn again and again to this couplet:
The Secret Sits by Robert Frost (1874-1963)
We dance round in a ring and suppose,
But the Secret sits in the middle and knows.
The Secret Sits by Robert Frost (1874-1963)
We dance round in a ring and suppose,
But the Secret sits in the middle and knows.
Lots more of Frost's words are available here.
And, as the coronavirus pandemic delays baseball season, here are additional Frost-thoughts:
Poets are like baseball pitchers.
Both have their moments. The intervals are the tough things.
Both have their moments. The intervals are the tough things.