![]() Wicked people love wickedly, violent people love violently, weak people love weakly, stupid people love stupidly, but the love of a free man is never safe. But his touch was fatal, and the something he gave her filled the matrix of her agony with death. He, at any rate, was the one who loved her enough to touch her, envelop her, give something of himself to her. She, however, stepped over into madness, a madness which protected her from us simply because it bored us in the end. ![]() We substituted good grammar for intellect we switched habits to simulate maturity we rearranged lies and called it truth, seeing in the new pattern of an old idea the Revelation and the Word. We courted death in order to call ourselves brave, and hid like thieves from life. And fantasy it was, for we were not strong, only aggressive we were not free, merely licensed we were not compassionate, we were polite not good, but well behaved.
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