No more desire flayeth me,
No more for us the trembling
At the meeting of hands.
Lo the fair dead!
·
No more desire flayeth me,
No more for us the trembling
At the meeting of hands.
Lo the fair dead!
“Here’s the thing about an apple: it sticks in the throat. It’s a package deal: lust and understanding. Immortality and death. Sweet pulp with cyanide seeds. It’s a bang on the head that births up whole sciences. A golden delicious discord, the kind of gift chucked into a wedding feast that leads to endless war. It’s the fruit that keeps the gods alive. The first, worst crime, but a fortunate windfall. Blessed be the time that apple taken was.“
Richard Powers | The Overstory