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It had already begun devouring Avignon, where it was said the pope heard audiences between two fires to burn off pestilential air,
Were there souls at all? Was there really a naked, invisible little version of himself hiding under his skin, so valuable to Heaven and Hell that each would send emissaries down to fight for it?
To engender life had been reserved unto the Lord of Hosts, and the numbers of the alchemy of life had been hidden from the angels.
May God forgive him, since he couldn’t forgive God.
the boy had something about him of the dog who feared so much to be kicked that kicking it seemed obligatory.
But it will be harder for you if you remember. Love is always harder. Love means weathering blows for another’s sake and not counting them. Love is loss of self, loss of other, and faith in the death of loss.
