The ownership of land is an odd thing when you come to think of it. How deep, after all, can it go? If a person owns a piece of land, does he own it all the way down, in ever narrowing dimensions, till it meets all other pieces at the center of the earth? Or does ownership consist only of a thin crust under which the friendly worms have never heard of trespassing?
Natalie BabbittThe first week of August hangs at the very top of summer, the top of the live-long year, like the highest seat of a Ferris wheel when it pauses in its turning. The weeks that come before are only a climb from balmy spring, and those that follow a drop to the chill of autumn, but the first week of August is motionless, and hot. It is curiously silent, too, with blank white dawns and glaring noons, and sunsets smeared with too much color.
Natalie BabbittTag: opening-lines summer
Everything's a wheel, turning and turning, never stopping. The frogs is part of it, and the bugs, and the fish, and the wood thush, too.
And people. But never the same ones. Always coming in new, always growing and changing, and always moving on. Thats the way it's suppose to be. That's the way it is.
If we didn't move it out ourself, it would stay here forever, trying to get loose, but stuck. That's what us Tucks are, Winnie.
We ain't part of the wheel anymore.
(I)n reading . . . stories, you can be many different people in many different places, doing things you would never have a chance to do in ordinary life. It's amazing that those twenty-six little marks of the alphabet can arrange themselves on the pages of a book and accomplish all that. Readers are lucky - they will never be bored or lonely.
Natalie BabbittTag: bqtdgy
You dont have to live forever just live.
Natalie BabbittTag: life
No connection, you would agree. But things can come together in strange ways. The wood was at the center, the hub of the wheel. All wheels must have a hub. A ferris wheel has one, as the sun is the hub of the wheeling calendar. Fixed points they are, and best left undisturbed, for without them, nothing holds together. But sometimes people find this out too late.
Natalie BabbittThe first week of August hangs at the very top of summer, the top of the live-long year, like the highest seat of a Ferris wheel when it pauses in its turning. The weeks that come before are only a climb from balmy spring, and those that follow a drop to the chill of autumn.
Natalie BabbittHow old are you, anyway?' she asked, squinting at him.
There was a pause. At last he said, 'Why do you want to know?'
I just wondered,' said Winnie.
All right. I'm one hundred and four years old,' he told her solemnly.
No, I mean really,' she persisted.
Well then.' he said, 'if you must know, I'm seventeen.'
Seventeen?'
That's right.'
Oh,' said Winnie hopelessly. 'Seventeen. That's old.'
You have no idea,' he agreed with a nod.
Don't fear death, fear the un-lived life
Natalie BabbittTag: live-life missed-chances
You can't have living without dying. So you can't call it living, what we got. We just are, we just be, like rocks beside the road.
Natalie BabbittTag: life death tuck-everlasting
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