Monday, October 28, 2013


"That it was a traffic of love is sufficiently clear; but love pursued with fervour is one of the roads  to knowledge.
Light in Scotland has a quality I have not met elsewhere. It is luminous without being fierce, penetrating to immense distances with an effortless intensity.
This bodily lightness, then, in the rarefied air, combines with the liberation of space to give Mountain feyness to those who are susceptible to such a malady. For it is a malady, subverting the will and superseding the judgment: but a malady of which the afflicted will never ask to be cured. For this nonsense of physiology does not really explain it at all. What! Am I such a slave that unless my flesh feels buoyant I can not be free?. No, there is more in the lust for a Mountain top that a perfect physiological adjustment. What more there is lies within the Mountain. Something moves between me and it. Place and mind may interpenetrate till the nature of booth is altered. I cannot tell what this movement is except by recounting it."

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