The trick is not the miles, I know it. I fled once from my mistress; the second time I was sent away.
The first time, the angel of the LORD asked me where I came from, and where I was going.
Twenty-eight years walking, and the first thing he wanted was fish fried in oil. I understand completely. I wandered a good while myself, in tents, with no address but the next pasture. The trick is not the miles.
It's who told you to go.
14 Oct 2026, 22:03