Limits

Perhaps I will never be able to move the mountain out of the way. Perhaps I will never be able, across all the deserts of the earth, to make a garden of red roses grow green. Perhaps there was never as much power in me as I thought. But without a doubt I was not a piece of wood, I am not. I will not be a piece of wood until the moment of death. A docile piece of wood! ridiculously docile to every force outside of me ...