I like something about his face, though I can't put my finger on it. Perhaps he was more alive, more vital, than those who fantasize daily about inflicting violence on their neighbors but never actually do it. How sad to know how often violence is prevented not by compassion, or strength of character, but instead by mere cowardice and force of habit.
Maybe the appealing intensity that I've glimpsed in his face is a blurry trace of something that might have made a great man, but never came fully to life.
It hard to come up with a sadder thought than that.
1 comment:
I like something about his face, though I can't put my finger on it. Perhaps he was more alive, more vital, than those who fantasize daily about inflicting violence on their neighbors but never actually do it. How sad to know how often violence is prevented not by compassion, or strength of character, but instead by mere cowardice and force of habit.
Maybe the appealing intensity that I've glimpsed in his face is a blurry trace of something that might have made a great man, but never came fully to life.
It hard to come up with a sadder thought than that.
Luke
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