Page 8 - DeSales 1970

I learn by going where I have to go grinding up and over the nar­
row road, spitting and roaring. A chance? Perhaps. But the road
was part of me. For a few steps deep in the dance of the road of
what I most am and should be and can be only once in this life, 1
think if I was not really there, then out of the distance comes a cry
as though it came from myself: “Where were you?”

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