My friend, blood shaking my heart
The awful daring of a moment's surrender
Which an age of prudence can never retract
By this, and this only, we have existed
Which is not to be found in our obituaries
Or in memories draped by the beneficient spider
Or under seals broken by the lean solicitor
In our empty rooms
T.S. Eliot, The Waste Land (1922)
1 σχόλιο:
Η φριχτή τόλμη της υποταγής...που μπορεί τα πάντα, όλα τα χρόνια φρονιμάδας, σε μια στιγμή να τα τινάξει...
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