The cut worm forgives the plow.
—William Blake
Would
anyone believe that rain abuses grass, or accuse roots, hungry for a
better hold on life, of digging too far into earth's flesh? And if the
earth should have to quake, would anyone blame it for cracking here and
there? Look closely at the small world of busy life overturned in the
garden each spring. No ant there curses another bug, and no worm curses
itself. Though they can neither speak nor think, even small creatures
know enough to accept their pain as a natural part of life.
Why, then, should we waste time blaming others, or ourselves, for the natural sensations of life?
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