I turned, and one whose days were in the "sear and yellow leaf," stood by my side.
"But all is tame and commonplace," I answered.

"We have this over and over again, day after day, month after month, and year after year.

Give me something brilliant and startling, if it be in the fiery comet or the rushing storm.

I am sick of the commonplace!" "And yet to the commonplace the world is indebted for every great work and great blessing.

For everything good, and true, and beautiful!" I looked earnestly into the face of the old man.