Know, I am at a severest junction. Some silent upheaval my chest inherits, by mandate of the stars begins its pretty confusion and stalls in double-examined thought the rigid course. For all my scheduling is left to the mockery of plotted gales which congenially nudge me forth stranger fields.
Correction such suffering employs, its glorious mutiny to administer, and to thee dear reader, by private conflict racked, I plead; though courage startled flees, bear it out. Rail not the current for the pond, but recline upon the streams, and adrift, carried calmly be to oceans vaster than can dreaming measure. If your sweet heart should be broken upon the brooks, it is only to loose the whole of its remarkable contents. May you then take flight.