I do not understand why perfection should be a state of rest rather than a state of change. I am very fond of this Earth; it is not, of course, perfect, but that which I find noble and admirable in it is all to do with change: the change of a bud to a flower, of a deer feeding to a deer running, the change of grape to wine, child to man, wood to flame; and the ash is thrown on the soil to help the buds change to flowers again. Alteration, novelty, decay, regeneration—these are not the blemishes of an imperfect world…
