malady

Isn't it strange, how one so afraid of contracting a fatal malady...should so earnestly wish for death, as well?

Intelligence is perhaps but a malady, -a beautiful malady; the oysters's pearl.

The sacrifices we make to stay healthy, to look good, the tasty foods we skip, the guilt trips, the exercising - all these things require great discipline, care, and even a paradoxical, self-denying self-love of sorts in order to be properly executed. However it is regretful that so many of us today are not as passionate about our spiritual holiness as we are about our physical health. They are indeed both important - we should worship in every aspect of our lives - and one even, in a sense, entails the other. Although, this disproportion in said priorities is still very much expected: we humans have always taken a liking to trendiness and the temporal side of things, doing what is judged vainly in the eyes of man before that which is judged vitally and eternally in the eyes of God (i.e. "cleaning the outside of one's cup while leaving a filthy inside"). But in a way, it all goes to show that the man who fully hates discipline hates himself fully; for within the spirit is where The Holy One judges true wellness or malady.

But love's a malady without a cure.

That is why they have poets__o classify all the degrees of love. It is for scientists to classify the maladies arising from the want of it.

A person who is another man's slave is better than one who is a slave to lust.