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"But that night, after the bonfire and the fireworks had faded, a wind
grew and blew with gathering violence, blowing away the rain. And in the
morning I found one of the laurelled posts torn off and lying at random on
the rainy ground; while the other stood erect, green and glittering in the
sun. I thought that the pagans would certainly have called it an omen; and
it was one that strangely fitted my own sense of some great work half
fulfilled and half frustrated. And I thought vaguely of that man in
Virgil, who prayed that he might slay his foe and return to his country;
and the gods heard half the prayer, and the other half was scattered to
the winds. For I knew we were right to rejoice; since the tyrant was indeed
slain and his tyranny fallen forever; but I know not when we shall find
our way back to our own land."
- G. K. Chesterton
Rene Magritte: La condition humaine, 1935
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