When the immense drugged universe explodes. In a cascade of unendurable colour. And leaves us gasping naked, This is no more than the ectasy of chaos: Hold fast, with both hands, to that royal love. Which alone, as we know certainly, restores. Fragmentation into true being. Ecstasy of Chaos
Robert GravesAbout author
- Author's profession: Novelist, Poet
- Nationality: irish
- Born: July 26, 1895
- Died: December 7, 1985
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As for Nigel, she had no wish to burden him with useless remorse even if a note from her would have achieved that object...."Poor old Hilary," he would say, "bad luck"--and it might be that, secretly, he would be rather relieved. Because she guessed that she was, slightly, on Nigel's conscience, and he was a man who wished to feel comfortable with himself.
Agatha Christie
