I will not fall. I have reached the center. I listen to the striking of who knows what divine clock through the thin carnal wall of a life full of bl… - Marguerite Yourcenar

Más sincero que la mayoría de los hombres, confieso sin ambages las causas secretas de esa felicidad; aquella calma tan propicia para los trabajos y las disciplinas del espíritu se me antoja uno de los efectos más bellos del amor. Y me asombra que esas alegrías tan precarias, tan raramente perfectas a lo largo de una vida humana -bajo cualquier aspecto con que las hayamos buscado o recibido-, sean objeto de tanta desconfianza por quienes se creen sabios, temen el hábito y el exceso de esas alegrías en vez de temer su falta y su pérdida, y gastan en tiranizar sus sentidos un tiempo que estaría mejor empleado en ordenar o embellecer su alma.

But other hordes would come, and other false prophets. Our feeble efforts to ameliorate man’s lot would be but vaguely continued by our successors; the seeds of error and of ruin contained even in what is good would, on the contrary, increase to monstrous proportions in the course of centuries. A world wearied of us would seek other masters; what had seemed to us wise would be pointless for them, what we had found beautiful they would abominate. Like the initiate to Mithraism the human race has need, perhaps, of a periodical bloodbath and descent into the grave. I could see the return of barbaric codes, of implacable gods, of unquestioned despotism of savage chieftains, a world broken up into enemy states and eternally prey to insecurity. Other sentinels menaced by arrows would patrol the walls of future cities; the stupid, cruel, and obscene game would go on, and the human species in growing older would doubtless add new refinements of horror. Our epoch, the faults and limitations of which I knew better than anyone else would perhaps be considered one day, by contrast, as one of the golden ages of man.

One must not fear the words anymore when one consented to the things.