Longing

Passages

Every passage tagged with this emotion in the Vela corpus. Search the body text, narrow by source or register, click through to a book’s profile to see how the passage sits with the rest of the work.

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• From Heptaméron (1559)

  To baffle observation, therefore, he entered into an intrigue with a lady named Paulina, who was considered in her time so beautiful that few men saw her and es- caped her fascinations. Paulina being aware how Ama- dour had made love in Barcelona and Perpignan,and won the hearts of the handsomest ladies in the country, especially that of a certain Countess of Palamos, who was reputed the finest woman in all Spain, told him one day that she pitied him for having, after so many good fortunes, married a wife so ugly as his own. Amadour, who well knew that she had a mind to supply his wants, talked to her in the most engaging terms he could use, hoping to conceal a truth from her by making her be- lieve a falsehood. As she had experience in love, she did not content herself with words, and plainly perceiv- ing that Amadour's heart was not her own, she made no doubt that he wanted to use her as a stalking-horse. With this sufipicion in her mind, she observed hia> w First Jay.l QUEEN OF NA VARRE. yy narrowly that not a single glance of his eyes escaped her; but he managed, though with the utmost difficulty, to regulate them so well that she could never get beyond conjectures. Florida, who had no notion of the nature of Amadour's feelings towards her, used to speak to him so familiarly before Paulina that he could hardly prevent his eyes from following the movements of his heart. To prevent bad consequences, one day, as Florida and he were talking together at a window, he said to her, " My dear, I beseech you to advise me which of the two is better, to speak or to die ? " " I shall always advise my friends to speak," she re- plied, without hesitation ; " for there are few words which cannot be remedied : but from death there is no return." " You promise me, then, that not only you will not be angry at what I want to tell you, but even that you will not give way to surprise until I have laid my whole mind open to you ? " " Say what you please," replied Florida, " for if you surprise me there is no one who can reassure me."

• From The Hours (1998)

  She will never find a love like that which the lone kiss seemed to offer. Virginia, excited, rises from her chair and puts her book on the table. Leonard asks from his own chair, “Are you going to bed?” “No. It’s early, isn’t it?” He scowls at his watch. “It’s nearly half past ten,” he says. “I’m just restless. I’m not tired yet.” “I’d like you to go to bed at eleven,” he says. She nods. She will remain on good behavior, now that London’s been decided on. She leaves the parlor, crosses the foyer, and enters the darkened dining room. Long rectangles of moonlight mixed with street light fall through the window onto the tabletop, are swept away by windblown branches, reappear, and are swept away again. Virginia stands in the doorway, watching the shifting patterns as she would watch waves break on a beach. Yes, Clarissa will have loved a woman. Clarissa will have kissed a woman, only once. Clarissa will be bereaved, deeply lonely, but she will not die. She will be too much in love with life, with London. Virginia imagines someone else, yes, someone strong of body but frail-minded; someone with a touch of genius, of poetry, ground under by the wheels of the world, by war and government, by doctors; a someone who is, technically speaking, insane, because that person sees meaning everywhere, knows that trees are sentient beings and sparrows sing in Greek. Yes, someone like that. Clarissa, sane Clarissa—exultant, ordinary Clarissa—will go on, loving London, loving her life of ordinary pleasures, and someone else, a deranged poet, a visionary, will be the one to die. Mrs. Brown She finishes brushing her teeth. The dishes have been washed and put away, Richie is in bed, her husband is waiting. She rinses the brush under the tap, rinses her mouth, spits into the sink. Her husband will be on his side of the bed, looking up at the ceiling with his hands clasped behind his head. When she enters the room he will look at her as if he is surprised and happy to see her here, his wife, of all people, about to remove her robe, drape it over the chair, and climb into bed with him. That is his way—boyish surprise; a suave, slightly abashed glee; a deep and distracted innocence with sex coiled inside like a spring. She thinks sometimes, can’t help thinking, of those cans of peanuts sold in novelty shops, the ones with the paper snakes waiting to pop out when the lids are opened. There will be no reading tonight. She slips her toothbrush back into its slot in the porcelain holder. When she looks in the medicine-cabinet mirror, she briefly imagines that someone is standing behind her. There is no one, of course; it’s just a trick of the light. For an instant, no more than that, she has imagined some sort of ghost self, a second version of her, standing immediately behind, watching. It’s nothing.

• From Blue Like Jazz (2003)

  Now, since Greg Spencer told me about truth, when I go to meet somebody, I pray that God will help me feel His love for them. I ask God to make it so both conversations, the one from the mouth and the one from the heart, are true. 19 Love How to Really Love Yourself I WISH AN I DIFRANCO WASN’T A LESBIAN . I AM listening to her right now, and I think I would marry her if she would have me. I would hang out in the front row at all her concerts and sing along and pump my fist and get angry at all the right times. Then, later, on the bus, she would lay her head on a pillow in my lap, and I would get my fingers tangled in her dreadlocks while we watched Charlie Rose on the television. Some friends and I were walking to our cars one night outside the Roseland after an Emmy Lou Harris concert, and I could see into her bus and Charlie Rose was on the television. I thought to myself, I like that show, and part of me wanted to knock on the window and ask if I could come in. I would not have bothered her or even asked for an autograph. I would have just watched television. He was interviewing Bishop Tutu, I think. By the time I got home the interview was over. If Ani Defranco and I got married, I would write books on the bus rides between cities and in the evening, after the concerts, we would watch Charlie Rose, and three or four times each night we would whisper, Good question, Charlie, good question. But none of this will happen because Ani Difranco is not attracted to men, I don’t think. Otherwise we would be on. [image "9780785263708_0237_002" file=Image00088.jpg] The thing about Reed College you may not know is that it is a beautiful place. I mean the people are beautiful, and I love them. My housemate, Grant, and I were on campus the other day helping kids move into their dorms, and we met this kid Nathan, who needed us to move a couch up to his room. Grant and I were sort of surprised when Nathan started talking to us because, no kidding, he sounded just like Elmer Fudd. He was short and stocky, and nobody but Elmer Fudd himself sounds more like Elmer Fudd than Nathan. Grant almost started laughing, but we tried very hard to listen to the person inside the voice, and so on the way to the storage shed Nathan opened up and told us that as a summer job he worked at Los Alamos, researching nuclear weapons. Nathan does not know his left from his right, which I thought was a peculiar characteristic, given he is one of the smartest people in the world or something.

• From Heptaméron (1559)

  good archdeacon, and of several other worthy people, was willing to take her back upon her oath that, for the future, she would behave like an honest woman ; an oath which the simple man, who loved her much, readily believed that she would keep. He took her back into his house, and treated her in all respects as before, except that he gave her two old servant women, one of whom was always with her when the other was elsewhere. But for all her hus- band's good treatment, her extravagant love for the canon made her regard all her repose as a torment. Though she was a very fine woman, and he a man of strong and vigorous temperament, yet she had no children by him, for her heart was always seven leagues away from her body. Nevertheless, such was her dissimulation, that her husband believed she had forgotten the past, as he had done on his part ; but her heart was too wicked to be capable of so happy and laudable a change. At the very time when she saw that her husband loved her most and distrusted her least, she feigned illness, and carried on the deception so well that the poor hus- band was in great distress on her account,. and spared nothing for her cure. At last he and all his household believed that she really was sinking to the grave. Seeing that her husband was as much afflicted at this as he had reason to be rejoiced, she begged he would authorize her to make her will ; which he freely did, with tears in his eyes. Having the power to make a will, because she had no children, she bequeathed to her hus- band all she had in her gift, beseeching his pardon for the affront she had put upon him. Then she sent for the parish priest, confessed, and received the holy sacra- ment of the altar with such devotion that everyone wept at witnessing so fine and so glorious an end. In the evening she begged her husband to have extreme unction 484 THE HF.PTAMERON OF THE \Norvd(i\

• From Buddenbrooks: The Decline of a Family (1901)

  Peace and sleepiness reigned in the room. The heat had become quite intense from the constant heating and the gas lamps, and the air was already quite spoiled by these twenty-five bodies breathing and steaming. The warmth, the gentle hum of the flames and the monotonous voice of the reader wrapped themselves around the bored brains and lulled them into dull dreamy bliss. In addition to his Bible, Kai Graf Mölln also had Edgar Allan Poe's "Incomprehensible Events and Mysterious Deeds" open in front of him and was reading them with his head resting on his aristocratic and not entirely clean hand. Hanno Buddenbrook sat leaning back and slumped and stared at the Book of Job with slack mouth and swimming, hot eyes, the lines and letters of which blurred into a blackish swarm. Sometimes, when he remembered the motif of the Grail or the walk to the Minster, he slowly lowered his eyelids and felt an inward sob. And his heart prayed that it might be possible that this safe and peaceful morning hour would never come to an end. propped his head on his aristocratic and not entirely clean hand. Hanno Buddenbrook sat leaning back and slumped and stared at the Book of Job with a slack mouth and swimming, hot eyes, the lines and letters of which blurred into a blackish swarm. Sometimes, when he remembered the motif of the Grail or the walk to the Minster, he slowly lowered his eyelids and felt an inward sob. And his heart prayed that it might be possible that this safe and peaceful morning hour would never come to an end. propped his head on his aristocratic and not entirely clean hand. Hanno Buddenbrook sat leaning back and slumped and stared at the Book of Job with a slack mouth and swimming, hot eyes, the lines and letters of which blurred into a blackish swarm. Sometimes, when he remembered the motif of the Grail or the walk to the Minster, he slowly lowered his eyelids and felt an inward sob. And his heart prayed that it might be possible that this safe and peaceful morning hour would never come to an end. when he remembered the motif of the Grail or the walk to the minster, he slowly lowered his eyelids and felt an inward sob. And his heart prayed that it might be possible that this safe and peaceful morning hour would never come to an end. when he remembered the motif of the Grail or the walk to the minster, he slowly lowered his eyelids and felt an inward sob. And his heart prayed that it might be possible that this safe and peaceful morning hour would never come to an end. And yet it came, as was the order of things, and the shrill wailing sound of the custodian's bell, which rang and echoed through the corridors, roused the twenty-five brains from their warm slumbers.

• From Heptaméron (1559)

  to gather in time, lest your enemies and mine profit by our loss. Know, madam, that from the first moment I had the honour of seeing you, I so wholly consecrated my- self to your service, though you were very young, that I have forgotten nothing whereby I could hope to acquire your good grace. It was to that end alone that I mar- ried her whom I thought you loved best ; and knowing the love you bore to the son of the Fortunate Infante, I took pains to serve him and be about him ; in short, whatever I thought could please you, I have tried with all my might to do. You see that I have had the good for- tune to win the esteem of the countess your mother, of the count your brother, and of all those whom you love, and that I am regarded here not as a servant, but as a son of the family. All the pains I have taken for five years have had no other object than to procure me the happiness of passing my whole life with you. I crave no favour or pleasure of you which is not consistent with virtue. I know that I cannot wed you, and if I could I would not do so to the prejudice of the love you bear to him whom I would gladly see as your husband. To love you with a criminal love, like those who presume to think that a lady's dishonour should be the recompense of their long services, is a thought I am so far from en- tertaining, that I would rather see you dead than know that you were less worthy of love, and that your virtue should suffer the least blemish for the sake of any pleas- ure whatever to myself. I ask but one thing of you in recompense for my long services, and that is, that you will deign to become a mistress so loyal as never to re- move me from your good grace, but let me continue on my present footing, and trust in me more than in anyone besides. Furthermore, madam, do me the honour to be well assured that, be the matter what it may, should you First (fay.] QUEEN OF NA VARRE. j^

• From Heptaméron (1559)

  The bastard came to see her as usual, but, with tears in her eyes, she related to him in detail all that her gouv- ernante had said to her, and begged him not to visit her any more until this tattle should have subsided ; and he complied with her entreaty. Both of them having lost their consolation through this separation, they began to feel an uneasiness such as neither had ever before experienced. Her whole time was spent in prayer, fasting, and journeying ; for the sentiment of love, so totally new to her, caused her such agitation that she did not know a moment's rest. The bastard was not in a much better plight ; but as he had made up his mind to love her and try to obtain her for a wife, and saw that it would be a very glorious thing for him to succeed in the attempt, his only thought was how he should press his suit, and how he should secure the gouvernante in his interest. To this end he represented to her the deplor- able condition of her mistress, who was wilfully deprived of all consolation. The good woman thanked him with tears for the interest he took in her mistress's welfare, and cast about \vith him for means to enable him to have an interview with her. It was arranged between them that Rolandine should pretend to be troubled with a headache, which made all noise insupportable to her; and that when her companions left her in her chamber, Third day \ QUEEN OF NAVARRE. loe the bastard and she might remain alone, and converse together without restraint. The bastard, dehghted with the expedient, gave himself up entirely to the guidance of the gouvernante, and in this way he was enabled to talk with his mistress whenever he pleased.

• From Heptaméron (1559)

  they would rather lose their lives than devote them to low things forbidden by honour and conscience ; for the soul which is created only to return to its sovereign good, so long as it is imprisoned in the body, does but long to arrive at that high destination. But because the senses, which can give its views thereof, are obscured and carnal since the sin of our first parents, they can only present to it those visible objects which approach nearest to perfection. In that, direction the soul rushes forth, and thinks to find in outward beauty, in visible graces, and in moral virtues, the supreme boauty, grace, and virtue. But after having sought and proved them, and not found what it loves, the soul lets them go, and passes on its way, like the child who loves apples, pears, dolls, and other trivial things, the handsomest it can see, and thinks that to amass little pebbles is to be wealthy ; but as it grows up it loves living dolls, and amasses things necessary to human life. After a longer experience has shown it that there is neither perfection nor felicity in the things of this earth, it seeks the true felicity, and Him who is its source and principle. Still, if God did not open the eyes of its faith, it would be in danger of passing from ignorance to infidel philosophy ; for it is faith alone that demonstrates and makes the soul receive that good which the carnal and animal man cannot know." " Do you not see," said Longarine, " that even the uncultivated ground, which produces only trees and use- less herbs, is, nevertheless, an object of desire, in the hope that when it is well cultivated and sown it will produce good grain ? In like manner, the heart of man, which is conscious only of visible things, will never ar- rive at the condition of loving God but through the seed of the Word ; for that heart is a sterile, cold, and cor- rupted soil." Sicond day\ QUEEN OF NA VARRE. 185 *' Thence it comes," said Saffredent, " that most doc- tors are not spiritual, because they never love anything but good wine and ugly sluts of chambermaids, without makino- trial of what it is to love honourable ladies." "If I could speak Latin well," said Simontault, " I would quote St. John to you, who says, ' He who loves not his brother whom he sees, how shall he love God whom he doth not see ? ' In loving visible things, one comes to love things invisible." " Tell us where is the man so perfect as you describe, et laudabivius emn," said Ennasuite.

• From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

  The ultimate good is also known as comprehension (comprehensio), a word suggested by Philippians 3:12: “I follow after, if I may by any means apprehend” (comprehendam). The term is not, of course, used in the sense according to which comprehension implies enclosing; for what is enclosed by another is completely contained by it as a whole. The created intellect cannot completely see God’s essence, in such a way, that is, as to attain to the ultimate and perfect degree of the divine vision, and so to see God to the extent that He is capable of being seen. For God is knowable in a way that is proportionate to the clarity of His truth, and this is infinite. Hence He is infinitely knowable. But infinite knowledge is impossible for a created intellect, whose power of understanding is finite. God alone, therefore, who knows Himself infinitely well with the infinite power of His intellect, comprehends Himself by completely understanding Himself. Nevertheless comprehension is promised to the saints, in the sense of the word, comprehension, that implies a certain grasp. Thus when one man pursues another, he is said to apprehend (dicitur comprehendere) the latter when he can grasp him with his hand. Accordingly, “while we are in the body,” as the matter is put in 2 Corinthians 5:6 ff., “we are absent from the Lord; for we walk by faith and not by sight.” And so we press on toward Him as toward some distant goal. But when we see Him by direct vision we shall hold Him present within ourselves. Thus in Canticles 3:4, the spouse seeks him whom her soul loves; and when at last she finds him she says: “I held him, and I will not let him go.”

• From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

  1. Contempt of sins; A soul that is full shall tread on the honeycomb. Prov. 27:7. The trees said to the fig-tree, Come thou and reign over us. And it answered them, Can I leave my sweetness and my delicious fruits, and go to be promoted among the other trees? Judges 9:10, 11. 2. The grace of good words; Thy lips, My spouse, are as a dropping honeycomb: honey and milk are under thy tongue. Cantic. 4:11. Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh. A good man out of a good treasure bringeth forth good things. St. Matt. 12:34, 35. 3. Longing for God; They that eat Me shall yet hunger; and they that drink Me shall yet thirst. Ecclus. 24:29. It shall spring up and rejoice in its showers. Ps. 64:11. As the hart panteth after the fountains of water, so my soul longeth after Thee, O God. My soul is athirst for the strong living God: when shall I come and appear before the face of God? Ps. 41:2, 3. (3) The spiritual draught of the Blood of Jesus; I would not have you ignorant, brethren, that our fathers … all drank the same spiritual drink: and they drank of the spiritual rock that followed them, and the rock was Christ. 1 Cor. 10:1, 4. I will water My garden of plants; and I will water abundantly the fruits of My meadow. Ecclus. 24:42. We also … cease not to pray for you … that you may walk worthy of God in all things pleasing, being fruitful in every good work. Col. 1:9, 10. In that day there shall be singing to the vineyard of pure wine. I am the Lord that keep it; I will suddenly give it drink; lest any hurt come to it, I keep it night and day. Is. 27:2, 3. 1. Good lives; As the vine I have brought forth a pleasant odour, and my flowers are the fruit of honour and riches. I am the mother of fair love and of fear and of knowledge and of holy hope. In me is all grace of the way and of the truth, and in me is all hope of life and of virtue. Come over to me, all ye that desire me, and be filled with my fruits. Ecclus. 24:23–26.

• From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

  Reply to Objection 3: Those who love themselves are to be blamed, in so far as they love themselves as regards their sensitive nature, which they humor. This is not to love oneself truly according to one’s rational nature, so as to desire for oneself the good things which pertain to the perfection of reason: and in this way chiefly it is through charity that a man loves himself. Whether a man ought to love his body out of charity?Objection 1: It would seem that a man ought not to love his body out of charity. For we do not love one with whom we are unwilling to associate. But those who have charity shun the society of the body, according to Rom. 7:24: “Who shall deliver me from the body of this death?” and Phil. 1:23: “Having a desire to be dissolved and to be with Christ.” Therefore our bodies are not to be loved out of charity. Objection 2: Further, the friendship of charity is based on fellowship in the enjoyment of God. But the body can have no share in that enjoyment. Therefore the body is not to be loved out of charity. Objection 3: Further, since charity is a kind of friendship it is towards those who are capable of loving in return. But our body cannot love us out of charity. Therefore it should not be loved out of charity. On the contrary, Augustine says (De Doctr. Christ. i, 23,26) that there are four things that we should love out of charity, and among them he reckons our own body. I answer that, Our bodies can be considered in two ways: first, in respect of their nature, secondly, in respect of the corruption of sin and its punishment. Now the nature of our body was created, not by an evil principle, as the Manicheans pretend, but by God. Hence we can use it for God’s service, according to Rom. 6:13: “Present . . . your members as instruments of justice unto God.” Consequently, out of the love of charity with which we love God, we ought to love our bodies also, but we ought not to love the evil effects of sin and the corruption of punishment; we ought rather, by the desire of charity, to long for the removal of such things. Reply to Objection 1: The Apostle did not shrink from the society of his body, as regards the nature of the body, in fact in this respect he was loth to be deprived thereof, according to 2 Cor. 5:4: “We would not be unclothed, but clothed over.” He did, however, wish to escape from the taint of concupiscence, which remains in the body, and from the corruption of the body which weighs down the soul, so as to hinder it from seeing God. Hence he says expressly: “From the body of this death.”

• From Heptaméron (1559)

  Less than a year ago there was in Cremona a gen- tleman named Messire Jean Pierre, who had long loved a lady in his neighbourhood ; but for all he could do he had never been able to obtain from her the response he longed for, though she loved him with all her heart. The poor gentleman was so distressed at this that he secluded himself at hoine, resolving to abandon a vain pursuit in which he was wasting his life. Thinking to detach himself from his cruel fair one, he remained some days without seeing her, and fell into such a pro- found melancholy that no one would have known him, so altered were his looks. His relations sent for physi- cians, who, seeing his face yellow, thought it was an obstruction of the liver, and bled him. The lady who had been so coy, knowing very well that his illness was nothmg but grief that she had not responded to his love, sent a trusty old woman with orders to tell hiin that, as she could no longer doubt that his love was genuine and sincere, she had made up her mind to grant him what she had so long refused ; and to that end she had con- trived means to leave home and go to a place where he might see her without impediment. The gentleman, who had been let blood that morn- ing from the arm, finding himself more relieved by this embassy than by all the remedies of his physicians, sent her word that he would not fail to meet her at the ap- 42 2 THE HEPTAMEKON OF THE \_Noz^d ^q.

• From Heptaméron (1559)

  •' I own I should ; but as nothing could diminish my love, though I love much and am not loved, so it could not be augmented, even were I loved as much as I love." " Take care, Dagoucin," said Parlamente, who dis- approved of this fantastic sentiment. " I have known others who chose rather to die than to declare them- selves." " And they were happy, doubtless," returned Da- goucin. " Yes," retorted Saffredent, " and worthy, moreover, of being classed with those innocents for whom the Church chants Non loquciido, sed moriendo confessi sunt. I have heard much of these languishing lovers, but I never yet saw one of them die for love. Since I myself have recovered, after much tribulation, I do not believe that any other man can ever die from that cause." " Ah, Saffredent ! " said Dagoucin, " how can you expect to be loved ! I know many instances of lovers First Jay ^^ QUEEN OF NAVARRE. 6 1 who have died from nothing else than the intensity of their passion." "Since that is the case, tell us one of those stories, and let it be a good one," said Longarine. " Yes," said he ; " to confirm my doctrine by signs and miracles, I will tell you a story that happened three years ago." NOVEL IX. Deplorable death of a lover in consequence of his knowing too late that he was beloved by his mistress. On the confines of Dauphine and Provence there lived a gentleman who was much better endowed with the gifts of nature and education than with those of fortune. He was passionately enamoured of a demoiselle whose name I will not mention, on account of her re lations, who are of good and great houses ; but you may rely on the reality of the act. Not being of as good family as she was, he durst not declare his passion ; but though his inferior birth made him despair of ever being able to marry her, nevertheless the love he bore her was so pure and respectful that he would have died rather than ask of her anything which could compromise her honour. He loved her, then, only because he thought her perfectly lovable, and he loved her so long that at last she had some suspicion of the fact. Seeing, then, that his love for her was founded on virtue only, she deemed herself fortunate in being loved by so upright a man ; and she treated him with such affability that he, who aspired to nothing better than this, was transported 62 THE HEPTAMERON OF THE \Nmel ^.

• From Heptaméron (1559)

  the centre, for a device, a Love concealed by Force His sword, poniard, and the devices upon them, corre- sponded to the rest ; in short, he was admirably ac- coutred ; and he was such a good horseman that all who saw him neglected the pleasures of the chase to see the paces and the leaps which Elisor made his horse per- form. After escorting the queen to the place where, the toils were spread, he alighted and went to aid her majesty to dismount. At the moment she held out her arms he opened his cloak, which covered his new cuirass, and said, " Be pleased, madam, to look here ; " and with- out awaiting her reply, he set her gently on the ground. When the chase was ended, the queen returned to the palace without speaking to Elisor. After supper she called him to her, and told him he was the greatest liar she had ever seen, for he had promised to show her at the chase the lady of his love, and yet he had done no such thing ; but for her part, she was resolved for the future to make no account of him. Elisor, fearing that the queen had not understood what he had said to her, replied that he had kept his word, and that he had shown her not only the woman, but also that thing in all the world which he loved best. Affecting ignorance of his meaning, she declared she was not aware that he had shown her any of the ladies. " That is true," replied Elisor ; "but what did I show you when you dismounted from your horse .■* ' " Nothing," said the queen, " but a mirror you had on your chest." '• And what did you see in the mirror } " " Nothing but myself." " Consequently, madam, T have kept my word and obeyed you. Never did anything enter my heart but that which you saw when you looked at my chest. She 240 'J'lli^ ItEPTAMEKON OF THE {Novd 24

• From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

  O Holy Ghost, help me to receive Jesus with love and reverence. Thou art my Teacher and my Sanctifier, and by Thee I live. Thou givest light and strength to my soul. Jesus, hidden in the Blessed Sacrament, is my Saviour and my God. I long to be with Him, that He may abide more in me and I in Him. He is the Bread of Life, the true Bread of God. I long to feed with adoration on that Living Bread. Be with me, O Blessed Spirit, as in this great light I draw near to the Altar, and give me always more faithfulness to Jesus and more love for Him. II About the first reason for the institution of the Holy Sacrament, that is, the remembrance of our SaviourA. Our Lord instituted the Sacrament of the Altar that we may always remember Him. About this we must consider three things. (1) First, there is the kind of evil that follows us, if we forget our Lord. That evil is threefold: 1, the loss of the grace of God; 2, subjection to the power of the devil; 3, the great hideousness of our guilt. 1. God hides His face; that is, we lose His grace. When the fountain ceases to flow, the river is dried up. Our souls become like deserts, because we forget God, our Maker. 2. We cease to be children of God, and become the children of the devil. He is a murderer from the beginning, and is always seeking to destroy us. 3. The guilt is often the guilt of mortal sin. We are spiritually dead, and are without God in the world. (2) Next, we ask in what things we are to have the remembrance of our Saviour. As to this there are three things to be considered: 1, the past; 2, the present; 3, the future. 1. In the past we think of the great charity of Jesus, in which He loved us and gave Himself for us, that He might save us from eternal death by His own death. He is our Redeemer. 2. In the present we think of Him as the searcher of hearts, who by His hidden presence sees and knows our most secret thoughts, words, and deeds. 3. In the future we think of Him as the just Judge, who by His almighty power will destroy evil and judge the world by fire. St. Jerome says, ‘Whether I eat or drink or whatever I do there is always ringing in my ears, like the shrilling of a trumpet, that voice of fear, Rise, ye dead, and come to judgment.’ N. We take the three together thus: God has given us food, that is, Himself, that we may bear in mind His wondrous works; how He redeemed us in the past; how He now knows everything about us; and how hereafter He will judge us one by one.

• From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

  AUGUSTINE. (de Con. Evang. iii. xxiv) Here the Angels must be understood to rise up, for Luke describes them as seen standing. AUGUSTINE. (Tr. cxxi) The hour was now come, which the Angels announced, when sorrow should be succeeded by joy: And when she had thus said, she turned herself back. CHRYSOSTOM. (Hom. l) But why, when she is talking to the Angels, and before she has heard any thing from them, does she turn back? It seems to me that while she was speaking, Christ appeared behind her, and that the Angels by their posture, look, and motion, shewed that they saw our Lord, and that thus it was that she turned back. GREGORY. (Hom. xxv.) We must observe that Mary, who as yet doubted our Lord’s resurrection, turned back to see Jesus. By her doubting she turned her back, as it were, upon our Lord. Yet inasmuch as she loved, she saw Him. She loved and doubted: she saw, and did not recognise Him: And saw Jesus standing, and knew not that it was Jesus. CHRYSOSTOM. (Hom. lxxxvi) To the Angels He appeared as their Lord, but not so to the woman, for the sight coming upon her all at once, would have stupified her. She was not to be lifted suddenly, but gradually to high things. GREGORY. (Hom. xxv.) Jesus saith unto her, Woman, why weepest thou? He asks the cause of her grief, to set her longing still more. For the mere mentioning His name whom she sought would inflame her love for Him. CHRYSOSTOM. (Hom. lxxxvi 1) Because He appeared as a common person, she thought Him the gardener: She, supposing Him to be the gardener, saith unto Him, Sir, if Thou have borne Him hence, tell me where Thou hast laid Him, and I will take Him away. i. e. If thou hast taken Him away from fear of the Jews, tell me, and I will take Him again. THEOPHYLACT. She was afraid that the Jews might vent their rage even on the lifeless body, and therefore wished to remove it to some secret place.

• From Buddenbrooks: The Decline of a Family (1901)

  It ended with a kind of church closure. A pause came, and a silence. And behold, suddenly, very softly, in a timbre of dull silver, the first motive there again, that poor invention, that stupid or mysterious figure, that sweet, painful sinking from one key to another. There was tremendous uproar and wild excitement, dominated by fanfare-like accents, expressions of wild determination. What happened? What was in preparation? It sounded like horns calling for departure. And then there was something like a gathering and concentration, tighter rhythms joined together, and a new figure came in, a bold improvisation, a kind of hunting song, Expressing a fierce determination. What happened? What was in preparation? It sounded like horns calling for departure. And then there was something like a gathering and concentration, tighter rhythms joined together, and a new figure came in, a bold improvisation, a kind of hunting song, Expressing a fierce determination. What happened? What was in preparation? It sounded like horns calling for departure. And then there was something like a gathering and concentration, tighter rhythms joined together, and a new figure came in, a bold improvisation, a kind of hunting song, enterprising and boisterous. But it wasn't happy, it was full of desperate high spirits in its innermost being, the signals that sounded like cries of fear, and again and again between everything, in distorted and bizarre harmonies, tormenting, erratic and sweet, there was the motive, that first enigmatic motive to be heard ... And now an unstoppable change of events began, the meaning and nature of which could not be guessed, a flight from adventures in sound, rhythm and harmony, over which Hanno was not master but rather under his working fingers and which he experienced without knowing them beforehand... He sat, hunched over the keys a little, with parted lips and distant, deep gaze, and his brown hair covered his temples in soft curls. What happened? What was experienced? Were there terrible obstacles overcome, dragons slain, rocks scaled, streams swum, flames traversed? And like a roar of laughter, or like an incomprehensibly blissful promise, the first motive wound its way through, this empty structure, this sinking from one key to the other ... yes, it was as if it provoked new, violent efforts, frantic attempts in Octaves followed it, ending in screams, and then a swell began, a slow, unstoppable build-up, a chromatic upward struggle of wild, irresistible longing, abruptly interrupted by sudden, terrifying and rousing pianissimi, like the ground slipping away from under one's feet and like a sinking in desire... Once upon a time, as if the first chords of the imploring, contrite prayer wanted to be heard in a distant and gentle admonition; Immediately, however, the tide of surging cacophonies rushed over it, which bunched up, rolled forward, receded, climbed up, sank and again struggled towards an ineffable goal that had to come, now had to come, at this moment, at this terrible climax, there the pangs of tribulation had become unbearable...

• From Heptaméron (1559)

  There lived near the town of Autun a very hand- some woman, fair complexioned, very tall, and of as goodly a presence as any woman I ever saw. She had married a respectable man, who seemed younger than herself, and with whom she had reason to be satisfied. Shortly after their marriage he took her to Autun, where he had business. Whilst the husband was engaged as a suitor in the courts of justice, the wife went to church and prayed for him. She continued her visits to that holy 31 482 Tin: HJ-J'TAMERON OF THE {Nmel dx- place so long that a very rich canon fell in love with her, and took his measures so well that the poor wretch gave herself up to him ; but the husband had no suspicion of this, and was more intent to taking care of his prcpert}^ than of his wife. When the time came for the husband and wife to return to their home, which was distant seven good leagues from the town, great was the regret on her part. The canon promised to go see her often, which he did under pretence of journeys, in which he always called at their house. The husband was not such a fool as not to understand the canon's purpose, and accordingly, when he next came there he did not see the wife, for her husband had taken good care to prevent it. The wife pretended not to notice this jealousy, of which she was well aware, but she was bent on counteracting the pre- cautions it led to, deeming it a hell to be deprived of the sight of her idol. One day when her husband was abroad, she gave her men and women servants so much to do that she remained alone and unobserved in the house. Immediately, taking what was necessary for her, and without any other company than her extravagant love, she started off on foot for Autun, where she arrived not so late but that she was recognized by her canon, who kept her close and concealed for more than a year, in ' spite of all the monitions and excommunications launched at him at the husband's suit. Finding all other expedients fail, the husband laid his plaint before the bishop, whose archdeacon, as good a man as any in France, personally visited all the houses of the canons, until he found the woman who was sup- .posed to be lost, committed her to prison, and condemned the canon to a heavy penance. The husband, hearing that his wife had been recovered bv the exertions of the 'Seventh Jay. \ QUEEN OF NAVARRE. 483

• From New Testament Words (1964)

  In the NT it is used of the ‘stranger’ in the parable to whom help was or was not given (Matt. 25.35, 38, 43, 44). The field which was bought with the blood-money which Judas Iscariot flung back to the priests is to be a burying- ground for ‘strangers’ (Matt. 27.7). The Athenians were interested in Paul because he preached ‘strange’ gods (Acts 17.18). The citizens of Athens and the ‘strangers’ who lived there were fascinated by all things new (Acts 17.21). Before Paul’s Gentile converts were converted they were ‘strangers’ to the covenants of promise (Eph. 2.12), but now they are not ‘strangers’ any more. Those to whom the Epistle to the Hebrews was written are to beware of ‘strange’ doctrines (Heb. 13.9). Peter tells his friends not to regard the things that are happening to them as some ‘strange’ experience (I Pet. 4.12). John contrasts the brethren and the ‘strangers’ (III John 5). But the passage which gives the word its tone and meaning in Christian thought is the passage in Hebrews where the patriarchs were said to be ‘strangers’ and pilgrims all their lives (Heb: 11.13). Even so, the Christian is a xenos, a stranger in this world. In the ancient world the ‘stranger’ had an uncomfortable time. In the papyri a man writes that he was despised by everyone ‘because I am a xenos, a stranger’. Another writes home to tell his people: ‘Do not be anxious about me because I am away from home, for I am personally acquainted with these places and I am no xenos, stranger, here.’ Another writes: ‘It is better for you to be in your own homes, whatever they may be like, than to be epixenēs, in a strange land.’ In the ancient world clubs in which the members met to have a common meal were very common; and those who sat down were divided into sundeipnoi, fellow-members, and xenoi, outsiders, who are guests only on sufferance and by courtesy. A mercenary soldier who was serving in a foreign army was xenos, a stranger (Xenophon, Anabasis, 1.1.10). In Sparta the ‘stranger’ was automatically regarded as a ‘barbarian’. Xenos and barbaros meant one and the same thing (Herodotus, 9.11). Here then we have the truth that in this world the Christian is always a stranger; in this world he is never at home; he can never regard this world as his permanent residence. And just because of that he will always be liable to be misunderstood; he will always be liable to be looked upon as a strange character, who follows queer ways which are not the ways of other people. So long as the world is the world, the Christian must remain a stranger in it, because his citizenship is in heaven (Phil. 3.20).

• From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

  AUGUSTINE. (Ep. 199 in fin.) Putting aside this wicked servant, who, there is no doubt, hates his Master’s coming, let us set before our eyes these good servants, who anxiously expect their Lord’s coming. One looks for His coming sooner, another later, the third confesses his ignorance of the matter. Let us see which is most agreeable to the Gospel. One says, Let us watch and pray, because the Lord will quickly come; another, Let us watch and pray, because this life is short and uncertain, though the Lord’s coming may be distant; and the third, Let us watch, because this life is short and uncertain, and we know not the time when the Lord will come. What else does this man say than what we hear the Gospel say, Watch, because ye know not the hour in which the Lord shall come? All indeed, through longing for the kingdom, desire that that should be true which the first thinks, and if it should so come to pass, the second and third would rejoice with him; but if it should not come to pass, it were to be feared that the belief of its supporters might be shaken by the delay, and they might begin to think that the Lord’s coming shall be, not remote, but never. He who believes with the second that the Lord’s coming is distant will not be shaken in faith, but will receive an unlooked for joy. He who confesses his ignorance which of these is true, wishes for the one, is resigned to the other, but errs in neither, because he neither affirms or denies either. CHAPTER 25 25:1–131. Then shall the kingdom of heaven be likened unto ten virgins, which took their lamps, and went forth to meet the bridegroom. 2. And five of them were wise, and five were foolish. 3. They that were foolish took their lamps, and took no oil with them: 4. But the wise took oil in their vessels with their lamps. 5. While the bridegroom tarried, they all slumbered and slept. 6. And at midnight there was a cry made, Behold, the bridegroom cometh; go ye out to meet him. 7. Then all those virgins arose, and trimmed their lamps. 8. And the foolish said unto the wise, Give us of your oil; for our lamps are gone out. 9. But the wise answered saying, Not so; lest there be not enough for us and you: but go ye rather to them that sell, and buy for yourselves. 10. And while they went to buy, the bridegroom came; and they that were ready went in with him to the marriage: and the door was shut. 11. Afterward came also the other virgins, saying, Lord, Lord, open to us. 12. But he answered and said, Verily I say unto you, I know you not. 13. Watch therefore, for ye know neither the day nor the hour wherein the Son of man cometh.