Tuesday, September 20, 2016

All'alba Vincerò!

All'alba Vincerò! ("At dawn, I will win." From Nessun Dorma, Turandot, by Giacomo Puccini

We live in constant anticipation of a better tomorrow, of victory over the odds, and our own shortcomings, of redemption. By intensifying this expectation in our souls, popular revolutions set us up for constant disappointment.


How illusory they prove to be, how fast decaying and forgettable they always turn out, those early moments, those early days when the mere prospect of the thing feels like victory.

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