True enough, nature has endowed me with a fair measure of patience and composure, yet I should be lying if I told you that, having seen the reporter off on his way to make his deadline, I fell peacefully asleep.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
A reporter is always concerned with tomorrow. There's nothing tangible of yesterday. All I can say I've done is agitate the air ten or fifteen minutes and then boom - it's gone.
There are sadistic scientists who hurry to hunt down errors instead of establishing the truth.
It is useless to tell one not to reason but to believe - you might as well tell a man not to wake but sleep.
Adopt the pace of nature: her secret is patience.
Every reporter inhales skepticism. You interview people, and they lie. You face public figures, diligently making notes or taping what is said, and they perform their interviews to fit a calculated script. The truth, alas, is always elusive.
Man has to awaken to wonder - and so perhaps do peoples. Science is a way of sending him to sleep again.
I have a theory that the truth is never told during the nine-to-five hours.
Quiet minds cannot be perplexed or frightened but go on in fortune or misfortune at their own private pace, like a clock during a thunderstorm.
But I wasn't getting in my pace, staying within myself, I was getting a little rushed. So I think I finally took a couple deep breaths and let myself get my timing back.
Nature refuses to rest.