He was silent for a time.
'I don't feel as if we were, ALTOGETHER,' he replied. 'Some people are
pure flowers of dark corruption--lilies. But there ought to be some
roses, warm and flamy. You know Herakleitos says "a dry soul is best."
I know so well what that means. Do you?'
'I'm not sure,' Ursula replied. 'But what if people ARE all flowers of
dissolution--when they're flowers at all--what difference does it
make?'
'No difference--and all the difference. Dissolution rolls on, just as
production does,' he said. 'It is a progressive process--and it ends in
universal nothing--the end of the world, if you like. But why isn't the
end of the world as good as the beginning?'
'I suppose it isn't,' said Ursula, rather angry.
'Oh yes, ultimately,' he said. 'It means a new cycle of creation
after--but not for us. If it is the end, then we are of the end--fleurs
du mal if you like. If we are fleurs du mal, we are not roses of
happiness, and there you are.'
'But I think I am,' said Ursula.
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