Our lives feel like these epochs, but really, we are dust in the wind.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
It is true that we are made of dust. And the world is also made of dust. But the dust has motes rising.
We live in an epoch of denudation.
Our most intimate contact with civilizations long since dust has been through the art which has survived them.
Our epoch is a time of tragic collision between matter and spirit and of the downfall of the purely material world view.
The troubles of our proud and angry dust are from eternity, and shall not fail. Bear them we can, and if we can we must. Shoulder the sky, my lad, and drink your ale.
In all the areas within which the spiritual life of humanity is at work, the historical epoch wherein fate has placed us is an epoch of stupendous happenings.
I grew up in a family of peasants, and it was there that I saw the way that, for example, our wheat fields suffered as a result of dust storms, water erosion and wind erosion; I saw the effect of that on life - on human life.
Because there is no cosmic point to the life that each of us perceives on this distant bit of dust at the galaxy's edge... there is all the more reason for us to maintain in proper balance what we have here. Because there is nothing else. No thing. This is it. And quite enough, all in all.
Human misery must somewhere have a stop; there is no wind that always blows a storm.
We can't feel anything - all that's left inside us is dust.