“ The climber, like a fox which is hard-pressed, should always have one more trick in his bag. ”
We think of those nights spent with one or more friends, nights when we merged with the shadows and could see the world with eyes that were not our own.
~ Whipplesnaith
Alas! Charles made the promise glibly, and forgot all about it.
Sometimes those experiences crowd back upon the memory, and the past flashes back like a distant peak momentarily lighted up by sunbeam piercing through the clouds. Then oblivion again. Strange it is how the prosaic present may hide the exciting past.
That time when past begins to look longer than the future
