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Augustine

"Confessions And Enchiridion"

Thou
didst breathe fragrant odors and I drew in my breath; and now I
pant for thee. I tasted, and now I hunger and thirst. Thou didst
touch me, and I burned for thy peace.
CHAPTER XXVIII
39. When I come to be united to thee with all my being, then
there will be no more pain and toil for me, and my life shall be a
real life, being wholly filled by thee. But since he whom thou
fillest is the one thou liftest up, I am still a burden to myself
because I am not yet filled by thee. Joys of sorrow contend with
sorrows of joy, and on which side the victory lies I do not know.
Woe is me! Lord, have pity on me; my evil sorrows contend
with my good joys, and on which side the victory lies I do not
know. Woe is me! Lord, have pity on me. Woe is me! Behold, I
do not hide my wounds. Thou art the Physician, I am the sick man;
thou art merciful, I need mercy. Is not the life of man on earth
an ordeal? Who is he that wishes for vexations and difficulties?
Thou commandest them to be endured, not to be loved. For no man
loves what he endures, though he may love to endure. Yet even if
he rejoices to endure, he would prefer that there were nothing for
him to endure.


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