- Hans Christian Anderson, The Last Dream of the Oak Tree
I have thousands of moments to be happy in. Thousands. My RELS prof was lecturing us that we weren't using the right tools to understand what was being said in the Bible. "You are NOT using the RIGHT tools". He was comparing the situation to a carpenter trying to do an astronomer's job with carpenter's tools. That analogy made so much sense that I can't even remember the point anymore. So troubling. It seemed like such a revelation at the time.
"For I have not learned wisdom".
"What makes you think He's addressing you?" If that question could be answered by me, there wouldn't be this shadow of intimidation hanging over my head. To add some humour, the shadow seems to be in the shape of the piano, but that doesn't reassure the victim at all does it? Looking toward two different horizons is difficult, especially when I can't decide what I'm looking at in the first place. It's pretty much impossible to bridge the gap between the sun set and the sun rise, but the closest thing to it can be seen in the Arctic. No wonder I live there. The summer is haunted by the dedication of a sun who fell in love with the mystery that shrouds the barren lands. Even in the winter when she is banned from the pain of a cold hearted lover, she pokes a melancholy gaze over the ice until she is too heartbroken to gaze any longer.
- Hans Christian Anderson, The Snail and the Rose Tree.