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For the most part the flights were without incident. Like sea-divers, we sank peacefully into the depths of our element. Flying, in general, seemed to us easy. When the skies are filled with black vapors, when fog and sand and sea are confounded in a brew in which they become indistinguishable, when gleaming flashes wheel treacherously in these skyey swamps, the pilot purges himself of the phantoms at a single stroke. He lights his lamps. He brings sanity into his house as into a lonely cottage on a fearsome heath. And the crew travel a sort of submarine route in a lighted chamber.
Wind, Sand and Stars
Antoine de Saint-Exupery
The second remembrance recognizes that sickness is a universal phenomenon: “Breathing in, I know I am of the nature to have ill health. Breathing out, I know I can’t escape having ill health.”
In this food I see clearly the presence of the entire universe supporting my existence.*
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