Disparaître

"Here, then, in the simple air, and by the simple water, lies my refuge and my hope.  Deny me not, for I am come as one nearing his journey’s end;  as a traveler at eventide, here must I seek final nourishment and rest. 

For there must somewhere lie beyond this complex phantasm, beneath this eagerness of growth, this upheaval and fatuous endeavor, beneath this sorrow-laden, inextricable fatality of subsidence and decay, that which stands to them as water to the waves: -deep, fluid, comprehending all: -bearing quiescent and passionless this endless agitation, this fascinating to-and-fro.  Else why, as I tarry here expectant, am I so persuaded by the heavy rolling roar and subsequent gurgling thin-spreading swash and laconic return of the green transparent waters?"

-Louis Sullivan