In EMILY CARR'S  HUNDREDS AND THOUSANDS

"Casually, you would think the world very still this morn, but really, when you consciously use your ears, there's quite a bustle and stir.  One is so lazy about life, about using our senses.  It is easier to jump into the luxurious vehicle called Drift and go nowhere particular, then wonder why we don't get anywhere.  There's smells ~ they have to fairly knock us over before we heed them.  They are such a delicate joy, and we miss three-quarters of it because we don't tune our noses in.  Fussy enough about taste because our stomachs are so demanding, we take sight for granted and only half use it, skimming along the surface.  Nor do we listen in to the silence and note all the little, wee noises like the breezes and insects.  Good heavens, the row there'd be if you could hear the footfall of all the ants!  And then there's feel.  We don't get one one-hundredth what we should out of feels.  What do we bother about the feel, the textures of things alive, and things made, and things soft, and hard, cold and hot, smooth and rough, brittle and tough, the tickle of insects, the touch of flesh, the exquisite texture of flower petals, the wind's touch, the feel of water, sleep pressing our eyelids shut  We accept all these things, that could so immeasurably add to our life, as a matter of course, without a thought, like animals do.  In fact animals seem to get more out of their senses than many people, yet we are supposed to have minds and they not."