It had not occurred to me that the English word"pansy", referring to the flower of the viola family, is derived from the French word penseé, as in Pascal's Penseés. So at any rate the Oxford Dictionary maintains.
When my children were young, I used to read them a story about the north wind that boasted that it could blow so hard and with such strength that it could remove the stoutest garments from peoples' backs. The sun smiled to itself but said nothing. The wind blew and blew, but all people did was to pull their coats more tightly around them. The sun, still smiling, shone with all its warmth, and one by one, people removed their coats and undid their buttons. It is like that today, as the cold, windy, morning gives way to a still, warm afternoon.
Somebody waves to me from a passing car. I do not recognise him because it is often difficult to identify a passing car-driver when you are outside on the pavement. But I wave back, because it is always good to be greeted, and to greet.
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