A drive towards the ultimate.
The need to produce the inferior...
"Alas, human vices, however horrible one might imagine them to be, contain the proof (were it only in their infinite expansion) of man's longing for the infinite; but it is a longing that often takes the wrong route. It is my belief that the reason behind all culpable excesses lies in this deprivation of the sense of the infinite."
A drive towards the inferior.
The need to produce the ultimate...
A wise man once told me if I possessed amazing intelligence I could learn without the need to suffer the lesson. I am not incredibly smart. I endure.
At least I have that.
"I would that your bosom, fragrant with health,
Were constantly the dwelling place of noble thoughts,
And that your Christian blood would flow in rhythmic waves
Like the measured sounds of ancient verse,
Over which reign in turn the father of all songs,
Phoebus, and the great Pan, lord of harvest."
the second was an excerpt
from The Sick Muse
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