The dripping blood our only drink, The bloody flesh our only food: In spite of which we like to think That we are sound, substantial flesh and blood—Again, in spite of that, we call this Friday good.
T.S. Eliot
The dripping blood our only drink, The bloody flesh our only food: In spite of which we like to think That we are sound, substantial flesh and blood—Again, in spite of that, we call this Friday good.
T.S. Eliot