I'm trying to remember a piece which I think is T.S. Eliot, to the effect that the end of all our efforts is to return to our beginnings and see ourselves for the first time.
Anyone know what I'm wittering on about?
We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
T.S. Eliot -- "Little Gidding" (the last of his Four Quartets)
Thanks so much, Ilza! You always were the queen of knowing the poem people meant, with the slenderest of clues.