Too late came I to love thee, O thou Beauty both so ancient and so fresh, yea too late came I to love thee. And behold, thou wert within me, and I out of myself, where I made search for thee: I ugly rushed headlong upon those beautiful wings thou hast made. Thou indeed wert with me; but I was not with thee: these beauties kept me far enough from thee: even those, which unless they were in thee, should not be at all. Thou calledst and criedst unto me, yea thou even breakedst open my deafness: thou discoveredst thy beams and shinedst unto me, and didst cast away my blindness: thou didst most fragrantly blow upon me, and I drew in my breath and I panted after thee; I tasted thee, and now do hunger and thirst after thee; thou didst touch me, and I ever burn again to enjoy thy peace.
St. Augustine: Confessions.
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