The brain within its groove The brain within its groove Runs evenly and true; But let a splinter swerve, T'were easier for you To put the water back When floods have slit the hills, And scooped a turnpike for themselves, And blotted out the mills! Emily Dickinson, The Collected Poems of Emily Dickinson insanitymind
Poured The light of the sun seems to be poured down, and to be poured, indeed, in every direction, but not poured away. Marcus Aurelius, Meditations Wasting light