William Blake Songs of Innocence painting

William Blake Songs of Innocence paintingVincent van Gogh Red vineyards paintingVincent van Gogh Mulberry Tree painting
had suddenly come clear in George's Gorge, I'd seen -- as it were in the general light -- that was not for such as I, nor any amorous ; the bonds of desire, the ties of wife, mistress, children, like every other bond, I would cast off, eschew, abjure -- eradicate, if necessary, like the names on my ID-card. And adultery, in particular, I perceived -- given the student situation and the fabric of campus -- was flunkèd in the Founder's eyes, so to speak, at least for His Grand Tutors. Of these things I no longer held opinions; I knew them to be the case, as I'd been given in that instant to know much else. Yet in all this clarity -- which so surely had lit my way back to Great Mall and up to the Belfry, and would beyond, from Tock to Tick, where presently I must go -- one shadow remained. I detected it most plainly in the pupils of Anastasia's eyes, and inferred therefore that what it shrouded was myself.
"You must love your husband," I earnestly advised her. "Stoker's in critical shape just now. He's actually jealous."
"I'm a complete failure!" Anastasia cried, and repeated what she'd told me earlier, on, and which her Living-Room debauchery had confirmed for her: she still felt compassion