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“It is the strangest and saddest of books, written by the man who in the middle of the 19th century had done more than anyone else to promote a love of the seaside and its nature. He loved rockpools at least partly because they were a form of stillness in the flux of the shore. They looked like a kind of Eden to him, perfect gardens which change could never threaten. So Gosse became a kind of anti-Heraclitus: for him, in a good world, nothing flowed. All was still and perfect. God had made it like that.” Read more...
