There is a real, living unity in our time, as in any other, but it lies submerged under a superficial hubbub of sensation.
We are apt to imagine that this hubbub of Philosophy, Literature, and Religion, which is heard in pulpits, lyceums, and parlors, vibrates through the universe, and is as catholic a sound as the creaking of the earth's axle. But if a man sleeps soundly, he will forget it all between sunset and dawn.Henry David Thoreau
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