Careless she is with artful care,
  Affecting to seem unaffected.


Ni siquiera tenía que respirar para vivir su muerte.


Then, perhaps, because of it, I could remember my life without repugnance.


Irony and humour reflect also upon themselves and so belong in the sphere of infinite resignation, they owe their resilience to the individual’s incommensurability with reality.*52


He had thought he loved her to distraction, he had regarded his passion as adoration; and behold it was only a poor little evanescent partiality.

Mark Twain

Is mortals’ chiefest enemy.

v.32 Shakespeare, Macbeth

Nothing ought to keep us from directing our observation to our own selves or from applying our thought to criticism of itself.


For if any man thinks that he alone is wise, that in speech or in mind he has no peer, such a soul, when laid open, is always found empty.



                         But set down.

This set down

This: were we led all that way for

Birth or Death? There was a Birth, certainly,

We had evidence and no doubt. I had seen birth and death,

But had thought they were different; this Birth was

Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death.

We returned to our places, these Kingdoms,

But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation,

With an alien people clutching their gods.

I should be glad for another death.

-T.S. Eliot