In my beginning is my end.
"Stand on the highest pavement of the stair -
Lean on a garden urn -
Weave, weave the sunlight in your hair -
Clasp your flowers to you with a pained suprise -
them to the ground and turn
With a fugitive resentment in your eyes:
But weave, weave the sunlight in your hair."
It's a rather painful process, though:
"She turned away, but with the autumn weather
Compelled my imagination many days,
Many days and many hours:
Her hair over her arms and her arms full of flowers.
And I wonder how they should have been together!
I should have lost a gesture and a pose.
Sometimes these cogitations still amaze
The troubled midnight, and the noon's repose.
Cultivating self-abnegation early on, I suppose.
And that brings me, if you like, to
Symposium: Paradox in Religion
I. T. Ramsey and N. Smart
Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society, Supplementary Volumes
Vol. 33, (1959), pp. 195-232
Published by: Wiley
"He that findeth his life shall lose it; and he that loseth his life shall find it." (Matthew,
"In order to possess what you do not possess / You must go by the way of dispossession." ('East Coker')
Well, just a random thought.