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Charcoal
on Paper with Burnt wood. Allegory 1996 |
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the
Sea . . . |
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Let
me only say that it fared with him as with the storm-tossed
ship, that miserably drives along the leeward land. The port
would fain give succour; the port is pitiful; in the port is
safety, comfort, hearthstone, supper, warm blankets, friends,
all that's kind to our mortalities. But in that gale, the port,
the land, is that ship's direst jeopardy. She must fly all hospitality;
one touch of land though it but graze the keel, would make her
shudder through and through. With all her might she crowds all
sail off shore; in so doing, fights against the very winds that
fain would blow her homeward; seeks all the lashed sea's landlessness
again; for refuge's sake forelornly rushing into peril; her
only friend her bitterest foe!
Herman
Melville |
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The
History of Salt . . . |
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