“ The pale water which goes away along paths of silence. ”
There are women whose love only ends with death.
~ Georges Rodenbach
Can there be anything more sad than a girl dying on the day of her first communion, in her new dress. A little bride of death...
As he walked, the sad faded leaves were driven pitilessly around him by the wind, and under the mingling influences of autumn and evening, a craving for the quietude of the grave … overtook him with unwanted intensity.
The main thing for inner contentment is to be in a state of grace. And there is an artistic state of grace, for art is a kind of religion.
