Washington Where

Washington, where Lincoln contemplates in a Greek-inspired temple. The throng inside does not impinge on the feeling of sacredness engendered by the dim light; the inscriptions of his speeches; his giant, raised presence and the viewer’s knowledge of his deeds. He gazes over the splendid WWII memorial – all water and stone and silent names and frolicking Americans – towards Washington Monument and the Capitol. With his white and shade and flowing marble, one can’t help but experience him as a deity.

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