That sentence you stumble on may be deliberate. Clarity & ease of reading is important. But not everything is intended to be read in the same way or at the same speed. Writers may intentionally slow down or speed up readers depending on how they want information to be ingested.
In a 2003 interview to celebrate the 30th anniversary of Pink Floyd’s The Dark Side of the Moon, bassist and songwriter, Roger Waters (who was about to turn 30 when the album was released) explained:
“I suddenly realized then, that year, that life was already happening. I think it’s because my mother was so obsessed with education and the idea that childhood and adolescence and… well, everything… was about preparing for a life that was going to start later. And I suddenly realized that life wasn’t going to start later–that it starts at ‘dot’ and that it happens all the time, and that at any point you can grasp the reigns and start guiding your own destiny. And that was a big revelation to me. I mean, it came as quite a shock!”
[You can hear Waters speak some of the above quote in this ambient music mix (cued up).]
Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day
You fritter and waste the hours in an offhand way.
Kicking around on a piece of ground in your home town
Waiting for someone or something to show you the way.
Tired of lying in the sunshine staying home to watch the rain.
You are young and life is long and there is time to kill today.
And then one day you find ten years have got behind you.
No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun.
So you run and you run to catch up with the sun but it’s sinking
Racing around to come up behind you again.
The sun is the same in a relative way but you’re older,
Shorter of breath and one day closer to death.
Every year is getting shorter; never seem to find the time.
Plans that either come to naught or half a page of scribbled lines
Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way
The time is gone, the song is over,
Thought I’d something more to say.
I like to be here
When I can
When I come home
Cold and tired
It’s good to warm my bones
Beside the fire
Across the field
Tolling on the iron bell
Calls the faithful to their knees
To hear the softly spoken magic spell
Songwriters: DAVID GILMOUR, NICHOLAS MASON, ROGER WATERS, RICK WRIGHT
There was once a stonecutter, who was dissatisfied with himself and with his position in life.
One day, he passed a wealthy merchant’s house, and through the open gateway, saw many fine possessions and important visitors. “How powerful that merchant must be!” thought the stonecutter. He became very envious, and wished that he could be like the merchant. Then he would no longer have to live the life of a mere stonecutter.
To his great surprise, he suddenly became the merchant, enjoying more luxuries and power than he had ever dreamed of, envied and detested by those less wealthy than himself. But soon a high official passed by, carried in a sedan chair, accompanied by attendants, and escorted by soldiers beating gongs. Everyone, no matter how wealthy, had to bow low before the procession. “How powerful that official is!” he thought. “I wish that I could be a high official!”
Then he became the high official, carried everywhere in his embroidered sedan chair, feared and hated by the people all around, who had to bow down before him as he passed. It was a hot summer day, and the official felt very uncomfortable in the sticky sedan chair. He looked up at the sun. It shone proudly in the sky, unaffected by his presence. “How powerful the sun is!” he thought. “I wish that I could be the sun!”
Then he became the sun, shining fiercely down on everyone, scorching the fields, cursed by the farmers and laborers. But a huge black cloud moved between him and the earth, so that his light could no longer shine on everything below. “How powerful that storm cloud is!” he thought. “I wish that I could be a cloud!”
Then he became the cloud, flooding the fields and villages, shouted at by everyone. But soon he found that he was being pushed away by some great force, and realized that it was the wind. “How powerful it is!” he thought. “I wish that I could be the wind!”
Then he became the wind, blowing tiles off the roofs of houses, uprooting trees, hated and feared by all below him. But after a while, he ran up against something that would not move, no matter how forcefully he blew against it — a huge, towering stone. “How powerful that stone is!” he thought. “I wish that I could be a stone!” he thought. “I wish that I could be a stone!”
Then he became the stone, more powerful than anything else on earth. But as he stood there, he heard the sound of a hammer pounding a chisel into the solid rock, and felt himself being changed. “What could be more powerful than I, the stone?” he thought. He looked down and saw far below him the figure of a stonecutter.
Source: Benjamin Hoff, The Tao of Pooh pages 118-119 (Amazon)