Of the Education of Children

I was planted, a crop not a boy but with headlong technique, everything in me telling to be coursed through with water and emptiness ★ The blank was worth tending a matter of tight, small discretions separating from youth like a bee It's just silence I've been talking about Into hills I tried things I was made of What was not in my memory, not math yet patched all together I required this armor "wrestling with old champions body against body" ★ Scribbling down the solution "by little light attacks" A life is at odds and we solve it a shadow itself "Understanding makes profit of everything—arranges, acts, and reigns," gives knowledge out in a swan Virtue wasn't a mountain, not a field or was it me brooding ★ "Too ill to instruct others," this awareness of slow moving and ditch of the past of the subject A few lumps on the ground like a book "Mixing with men is wonderfully useful" but hard practice ★ "For our boy, a closet, a garden, the table and bed, solitude, company, morning and evening, all hours will be the same, all places will be his study" ★ He's in philosophy, and mingled let him forgive it I have been happy in rooms Gambling with pocket, with babble "he will not say his lesson as do it" and the unit is character, "repeated in actions" ★ Rising to beg and confounding I hear it now, in our ears