Famously from Lewis's Weight of Glory:
"We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased."
What happens when mud pies become genuinely (though not necessarily actually) more attractive than a holiday at the sea?
Saturday, May 16, 2009
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