Sunday, November 30, 2008

Breathe In, Breathe Out

The mind is its own place, and in itself
Can make a heav'n of hell, a hell of heav'n.

Satan, Paradise Lost

A miserable day in the East, and I chose to face the holiday-shopping hordes, unbowed by cold rain and recession. I drove around for hours in search of the lump-of-coal megastore. In vain.

One must cleanse the palate before a Monday.

"I have no name;
I am but two days old."
What shall I call thee?
"I happy am,
Joy is my name."
Sweet joy befall thee!

Pretty joy!
Sweet joy, but two days old.
Sweet joy I call thee:
Thou dost smile.

William Blake, "Infant Joy"

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Satan always has the best lines...

Sorry, I can't palate all that joy-- it's just so sweet. But it did make me smile.. for about half a second.
Oh joy, if you lasted for any longer you wouldn't be so..