I think I am beginning to understand why grief feels like suspense. It comes from the frustration of so many impulses that had become habitual. Thought after thought, feeling after feeling, action after action, had H. for their object. Now their target is gone. I keep on through habit fitting an arrow to the string, then I remember and have to lay the bow down. So many roads lead thought to H. I set out on one of them. But not there's an impassable frontierpost across it. So many roads once; now so many culs de sac.
- p. 47 A Grief Observed by C. S. Lewis
people nature history hurt life money work today play culture death media yesterday technology tomorrow joy mistakes relationship nations redemption everything... absolutely.
Tuesday 14 October 2008
A Grief Observed: grief feels like suspense
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