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“The sense-perception of an ant does not include thunder.”
– Ayn Rand, The Fountainhead.
This poem referring to Ayn Rand was recited by Shoshana Milgram in her course at OCON 2008 — where I noted it down. Unfortunately, I did not take a note who the author is. But I like it.
* * *
she is not bound my mortal sight
the stars are hers by noon
against the melody of night
she stands alone, immune
I would give the greatest sunset in the world for one sight of New York’s skyline. Particularly when one can’t see the details. Just the shapes. The shapes and the thought that made them. The sky over New York and the will of man made visible. What other religion do we need? And then people tell me about pilgrimages to some dank pesthole in a jungle where they go to do homage to a crumbling temple, to a leering stone monster with a pot belly, created by some leprous savage. Is it beauty and genius they want to see? Do they seek a sense of the sublime? Let them come to New York, stand on the shore of the Hudson, look and kneel. When I see the city from my window – no, I don’t feel how small I am – but I feel that if a war came to threaten this, I would throw myself into space, over the city, and protect these buildings with my body.
– Ayn Rand, The Fountainhead.
Clouds had wrapped the sky and had descended as fog to wrap the streets below, as if the sky were engulfing the city. She could see the whole of Manhatten Island, a long, triangular shape cutting into an invisible ocean. It looked like the prow of a sinking ship; a few tall buildings still rose above it, like funnels, but the rest was disappearing under grey-blue coils, going down slowly into vapor and space. This was how they had gone — she thought — Atlantis, the city that sank into the ocean, and all the other kingdoms that vanished, leaving the same legend in all the languages of men, and the same longing.
– Ayn Rand, Atlas Shrugged.
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