Marginalia, no.25

                                         …[T]here’s not a man
That lives who hath not had his god-like hours.

~ William Wordsworth, The Prelude

All ecstasies end in a blush.  Only the mystic and the madman are spared.  The rest of us fall prey to that cousin of Newton’s third law which matches every apotheosis with a bruising fall back into clay.  …Still, give me my god-like hours.

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