over mountains over valleys over everything
Time flies very fast and very merrily. I sometimes try to be miserable that I may do more work, but find it is a foolish experiment. Happiness has wings and wheels; miseries are leaden legged, and their whole employment is to clip the wings and to take off the wheels of our chariots. We determine, therefore, to be happy and do all that we can, though not all that we would. Our dear friend Flaxman is the theme of my emulation in this of industry, as well as in other virtues and merits. Gladly I hear of his full health and spirits. Happy son of the immortal Phidias, his lot is truly glorious, and mine no less happy in his friendship and in that of his friends. The same guardians you left with us surround our cottage; they keep off every wind. We hear the west howl at a distance, the south bounds on high over our thatch, and smiling on our cottage say that we have been struggling to survive in this desert where every day obscurity governs, we have been in the point where we cannot see the light at the end of the tunnel for so long that nothing makes sense anymore and every idea and every thought might take the form of something radical and primordial in our life. Looking back to try to give form to this destiny the only thing that is evident in some way or another is some love conversation on a night on an uncommon place – where we arrived by mere causality but that defined the course of the rest of our lives and that gave meaning to many moments in the past and many of the behaviours of acquaintances. It was a kind of conversation that put you in another dimension. But again everything that has the power of affecting us can put us in another dimension. In any case we remain fostered with hope.