It seems a strange thing that a mind so full of work should find rest difficult when the body is weary. I watched him lie there, eyes open to the dark room, while I read until his breathing finally slowed. Perhaps he was waiting for a dream that would match the verses he had written, and in that waiting, sleep refused to come.
“Nothing destroyeth authority so much as the unequal and untimely interchange of power pressed too far and relaxed too much.”