Four Quartets《四个四重奏》 by T.S. Eliot

Probably the wisest poetic prose of modern times. It was written during World War II, and is still entirely relevant today … here’s an excerpt: “The dove descending breaks the air/With flame of incandescent terror/Of which the tongues declare/

The only discharge from sin and error/The only hope, or the despair/

Lies in the choice of pyre or pyre–/To be redeemed from fire by fire./Who then devised this torment?/Love/

Love is the unfamiliar Name/Behind the hands that wave/The intolerable shirt of flame/Which human power cannot remove./

We only live, only suspire/Consumed by either fire or fire.”