Free me, I pray, to go in search of joysUnembroidered by your high, soft voice,Along that stony path the senses pave.

My home drove me
into the wilderness.
Few look for me. Few hear me.

She is so free with herself and so certain of her path, something I now cynically believe only comes from not being aware of the infinite multitude of right paths.

One of the greatest joys known to man is to take a flight into ignorance in search of knowledge.

He could be flint-hard, but he could also be soft.

Fall on stony ground