Mistakes are the portals of discovery.

James Joyce, Irish Novelist

. . .

Aghast I gazed upon my many gaffes,

Self-trust betrayed by insensate senses.

If even tendencies to err were halved,

My mind no change will make to dispenses.

Since made to be mistaken is our race,

Presented thus is the most massive one:

In all of the immensity of space,

We think wisest we are under the sun.

Perpetually above us though, hangs not.

That sunny splendid egg-yolk golden glow.

The sun that we befriend by day is caught,

Devoured, digested, by eventide show.

Akin to setting sun is our reason,

Ever due to run out of season.

. . .

Granville D. Austin