A thing, until it is everything, is noise, and once it is everything it is silence. – Antonio Porchia, Voces, 1943, translated from Spanish by W.S. Merwin
As might be supposed, my parents were quite poor, but we somehow never seemed to lack anything we needed, and I never saw a trace of discontent or a failure in cheerfulness over their lot in life, as indeed over anything. – Albert J. Nock
