We would rather be ruined than changed
We would rather die in our dread
Than climb the cross of the moment
And let our illusions die.
(W.H. Auden, “Epilogue.” The Age of Anxiety, 1948)
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The Sanctifier and bright Lord who is glorious in operation, the dispositioner, the effector of all trans-substantiations, who sets the traverse wall according to the measure of the angel with the reed, who knows best how to gather his epiklesis from that open plain, who transmutes their cheerless blasphemy into a lover's word, who spoke by Balaam and by Balaam's ass, who spoke also by Sgt. Bullcock.
Followers
About Me
- Священник села
- All I have ever wanted is the quiet of a private life. But my mother is determined to see me distinguished. Orator. Politician. Even a barrister would do, if I drove a barouche. What do you wish for? I prefer the church, but that is not smart enough for my mother. She prefers the army, but that is too smart for me. - Would you stay in London? - I hate London. Country living is my ideal. A small parish where I might do some good. Keep chickens ... Give very short sermons. - Edward Ferrars in Ang Lee's Sense and Sensibility (1995)
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