Every summer my husband and I pack our suitcases load our kids into the car and drive from tense crowded New York City to my family's cottage in Maine. It's on an island with stretches of sea and sandy beaches rocky coasts and pine trees. We barbecue swim lie around and try to do nothing.
I maintain that Truth is a pathless land and you cannot approach it by any path whatsoever by any religion by any sect.
There is pleasure in the pathless woods there is rapture in the lonely shore there is society where none intrudes by the deep sea and music in its roar I love not Man the less but Nature more.