It is likely enough that human life has no moral significance – that nothing really matters. The long travail of evolution, the procreant urge, may have no purpose in view that concerns us. Born at all adventure, we and all that is animate on the face of the earth may be predestined for a meaningless annihilation. Our wisest course may well be to enjoy our hour of sunshine without thought or plan. All life is carried along in this perpetual flux. The poppy lifts its head to the sun, and its petals fall. Flies he never so high, the eagle comes to the earth at the last a sorry bundle of unbuoyant feathers. Ox and ass, mouse and man, none escape. The very planet itself, for all its encircling tumbler-pigeon flights, is doomed.

Llewelyn Powys, Rediscovering the Essays of Llewelyn Powys | The Winnipeg Review

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