"That's the duty of the old," said the Librarian, "to be anxious on the behalf of the young. And the duty of the young is to scorn the anxiety of the old."
They sat for a while longer, and then parted, for it was late, and they were old and anxious.
And that, my friends, is poetry.
It's off the first book of the Dark Materials series, simple read which I should have read much earlier, but didn't.
Enjoying everything just that little bit more right now.
We live in a placid island of ignorance amongst the black seas of infinity.
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