There is no despair so absolute as that which comes with the first moments of our first great sorrow, when we have not yet known what it is to have suffered and be healed, to have despaired and have recovered hope.
When I despair, I remember that all through history the way of truth and love has always won. There have been tyrants and murderers and for a time they seem invincible but in the end, they always fall. Think of it - always.
Life is but an unfair circle, intertwined among the ruins of my salvation as a soul of this universe. My humble despair deserves no such fate; perhaps sometime in the near distant future I may live to say 'this really sucks!'"
All those who journey, soon or late, Must pass within the garden's gate; Must kneel alone in darkness there, And battle with some fierce despair. God pity those who cannot say: "Not mine but thine"; who only pray: "Let this cup pass," and cannot see The purpose in Gethsemane. All paths which have been or must be, Must pass through Gethsemane. All those who journey, soon or late, Must pass somewhere through the garden's gate. Must kneel alone in darkness there, And deal with some fierce despair. God pity those who cannot say, "Not mine, but shine," who only pray "Let this cup pass," and cannot see The purpose of Gethsemane.
And that dismal cry rose slowly And sank slowly through the air, Full of spirit's melancholy And eternity's despair; And they heard the words it said,- "Pan is dead! great Pan is dead! Pan, Pan is dead!"