Therefore all things are one. What we love is the mystery of life. What we hate is corrupting in death. But the corruptible in its turn becomes mysterious life, and this mysterious life once more becomes corruptible. (p.644)
For in old Peking, the moment and eternity are one. What are centuries elsewhere are but short moments in Peking, spanning the generations from drandfather to grandson, carrying on the same tradition of living. For Peking can wait and grows old and yet never grows old. Conquered many times, it has ever conquered its conquerors, and adapted and modified them to its own way of living. (p.853) |