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The Line

           Itisworse;foryoucannotsitmotionlessintheheartoftheseperils,becausetheboatisrockinglikeacradle,andyouarepitchedonewayandtheother,withouttheslightestwarning;andonlybyacertainself-adjustingbuoyancyandsimultaneousnessofvolitionandaction,canyouescapebeingmadeaMazeppaof,andrunawaywithwheretheall-seeingsunhimselfcouldneverpierceyouout.

           Again:astheprofoundcalmwhichonlyapparentlyprecedesandprophesiesofthestorm,isperhapsmoreawfulthanthestormitself;for,indeed,thecalmisbutthewrapperandenvelopeofthestorm;andcontainsitinitself,astheseeminglyharmlessrifleholdsthefatalpowder,andtheball,andtheexplosion;sothegracefulreposeoftheline,asitsilentlyserpentinesabouttheoarsmenbeforebeingbroughtintoactualplaythisisathingwhichcarriesmoreoftrueterrorthananyotheraspectofthisdangerousaffair.Butwhysaymore?Allmenliveenvelopedinwhale-lines.Allarebornwithhaltersroundtheirnecks;butitisonlywhencaughtintheswift,suddenturnofdeath,thatmortalsrealizethesilent,subtle,everpresentperilsoflife.Andifyoubeaphilosopher,thoughseatedinthewhale-boat,youwouldnotatheartfeelonewhitmoreofterror,thanthoughseatedbeforeyoureveningfirewithapoker,andnotaharpoon,byyourside.

           

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Roboto Lora
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