She went to the door and stood half inside, half outside for a while, listening to the creek shouting and hollering eternal praise! eternal praise! It was incredible that it had kept up this tremendous noise for hundreds of years before she was ever born, and would go on doing it until the mountains moved. And the strangest thing about it, was a distant note in it, far away upstream it seemed, like the voices of unborn children singing, very sweetly...
( Ursula K. Le Guin )
[ The Lathe of Heaven ]
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