Ghosts don't haunt us. That's not how it works. They're present among us because we won't let go of them."
"I don't believe in ghosts," I said, faintly.
"Some people can't see the color red. That doesn't mean it isn't there," she replied.”
The marsh, to him who enters it in a receptive mood, holds, besides mosquitoes and stagnation, - melody, the mystery of unknown waters, and the sweetness of Nature undisturbed by man.
- William Beebe, The Log of the Sun A Chronicle of Nature's Year