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  • You cut your coat according to your cloth.

    So I have always been told and so I believe.

    I confess. My cloth is wide and long. I have a great coat here. Check my coat.

    But is it my ideal coat, the coat I would cut if I had no constraints of any kind? No.

    Ah, but a man's hand should exceed his grasp, or what's a heaven for?

    I walked along this beach, and chose to walk between the sea and the stream which flows, just here, into the sea. It was a mistake. The sand sank up to my ankles - above my ankles - I struggled to retract my boots -

    I had choices: I could wade into the sea. I could wade into the stream. I could carry on, and hope for firmer sand.

    I waded on. I always wade on. I will always wade on.

    And I found firmer sand.
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