Marginalia, no.235

Love and Cough cannot be hid.

~ George Herbert, Outlandish Proverbs

Apparently I always think of this when I’m sick. A potion to inspire the one, a syrup to cure the other. From Solomon’s Song to Burton’s Anatomy, love and sickness go hand in hand. The wife and kids have had the flu this past week. It’s my turn now. The muscles in my right thigh ache. There’s a canker sore inside my lower lip. I spend all day blowing Rorschach tests into handfuls of tissue. But someone made a mistake. Love – at least in its more vigorous forms – is out of the question.

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