it is easy to make the error of unfolding future sufferings so far in front of one that one’s eye must pass beyond them and never again return, while in reality one will stand, both today and later, with a real body, a real head for smiting with one’s hand. from this instant, nothing is serious in mortality, all is but toys, renown and grace live again; through joy, the beauty of the world penetrates our soul, theough suffering, it penetrates our body.
