Monday, July 27, 2020

Two Hundred and Forty

The universe is infinite, but we are finite.  How then should we live? 

Ah, love, let us be true to one another!
For the world
Which seems to lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so new,
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain.

But the world is what we made it because we couldn't love one another.  If we can’t live with the infinite sadness that comes with knowing this, we must die.

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