Dreams, memories, the sacred—they are all alike in that they are beyond our grasp. Once we are even marginally separated from what we can touch, the object is sanctified; it acquires the beauty of the unattainable, the quality of the miraculous. Everything, really, has this quality of sacredness, but we can desecrate it at a touch. How strange man is! His touch defiles and yet he contains the source of miracles.
Desecrate it at a Touch - “Spring Snow” – Yukio Mishima
August 2nd, 2011 · No Comments · Ideology, Japan, Japanese, Literature, Progressive Politics, Prose, Writing
Tags: Abstraction·Dreams·prose·Sacred
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