Death is only beginning to frighten me again. I had stopped being afraid of it after the revelation of that pale, pure morning when I understood that I was no different from other men.
“All souls beneath the gloom
That pass with little flames,
All these till time be run
Pass one by one
As Christs to save, and die;
What wrong one sowed,
Behold, another reaps!
Where lips awake our joy
The sad heart sleeps
Within.”
Ezra Pound | “To Our Lady of Vicarious Atonement”