Any work of art is ultimately an entry-point into the transcendent, revelatory of not
only subtle, but celestial beauty and power; and if the given work is not so, it cannot
properly be called art at all...All works of art, in other words, are religious, sacred, or
nothing.
Dark and cold we may be, but this Is no winter now: the frozen misery Of centuries breaks, cracks, begins to move: The thunder is the thundering of the floes, The thaw, the flood, the upstart spring. Thank God our time is now when wrong Comes up to face us everywhere, Never to leave us til we take The longest stride of soul we ever took. Affairs are now soul-size. The enterprise Is exploration into God.
~ from "A Sleep of Prisoners" in SELECTED PLAYS by Christopher Fry
Thank God our time is now when wrong Comes up to meet us everywhere Never to leave us till we take The longest stride of soul humanity ever took — Affairs are now soul size. The enterprise Is exploration into God.
