I've been reading a book called The World is Made of Stories by David R. Ley. He is defining the world in Buddhist terms but with many, many quotes, many of which are very wonderful, especially to the mind of a serious reader and writer and lover of book. The following is a wonderful quote from Jorge Luis Borges about Shakespeare. There was no one like him: behind his face (which even through the bad paintings of those times resembles no other) and his words, which were copious, fantastic, and stormy, there was only a bit of coldness, a dream dreamt by no one. History adds that before or after dying he found himself in the presence of God and told Him: "I who have been so many men in vain want to be one and myself." The voice of the Lord answered from a whirlwind: "Neither am I anyone; I had dreamt the world as you dreamt your work. my Shakespeare, and among the forms in my dream are you, who like myself are many and no one."
I can add nothing, that is beautifully written and leaves one thinking both about Shakespeare, and as the author intended, about all the world's story telling.
And addendum of no importance and off the subject but I just want to say: I learned, yesterday, how to put air i the car's tires! You see an old dog does learn new tricks.
The mid-70s are a surprise! Part of me remains in the 50s -- age, I mean, not decade of 20th century. It's a joy ride, new experiences land in my lap and I've become a better quilter, poet, writer than I expected. It's a rich life for a person never rich financially. Hey, this is what the mid-70s are like!