Saturday, October 2, 2010

From "Miss MacIntosh, My Darling"

What motive in this quest but the search for life, for love, for truth that does not fail? I had come because of my own heart's need for an answer. I had come because of the searchings of other souls, the dead, the lost, because of a chance remark overheard on the city streets, because of the encompassing darkness, because of my mind which had been filled with self, because I must find my way from the darkness to the ultimate light. I had come because of a dead girl's love letters scattered on the floor of her empty bedroom, the palm leaves crossed above the marble mantel piece, her rosary hanging on a brass bedpost, because of her suicide, because of a deaf musician, because of a drunkard's celestial dream of childhood, because of the answers not heard, because of a blind man's groping for his coffee cup at an all-night quick-lunch stand on the fog-shrouded waterfront of that great harbor city as he had asked of his companion -- When shall the light, Peter, enter my soul? (MMMD, 8)

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