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I stood atop the high and lonely lighthouse which itself tops the rocky promontory of Cape Saint Vincent and watched greenish Mediterranean waters meet bluish Atlantic rollers. It is the most southwestern point of Europe and the windiest point of Portugal. Here fish-eye decorated Phoenician ships, Visigoth vessels, Roman galleys, and Moorish sailing boats came with their crews of traders, warriors, pirates, or settlers. The waves dashed themselves in wanton fury upon the rocks, or crashed in suicidal exits from this world.


-- Notebooks Category 12: Reflections > Chapter 6: The Profane and The Profound > # 131






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