Eternal and Beatific
“He was telling her that the black shadows on the water were not shadows but a dream—that in the presence of that magical water with its lambent sheen, of that fathomless sky and the sad, pensive river banks, speaking to us of the vanity of our lives and the existence of something higher, something eternal and beatific, it would be good to forget everything, to die, to become a memory. The past was trivial and void of interest; the future was of no importance; and this wonderful night, the never-to-be-forgotten night of their lives, would soon come to an end and merge into eternity . . .” — Anton Chekhov; Lady with Lapdog and Other Stories—The Grasshopper, p. 113
Kim Dorland
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