We spend all our lives at Circus Maximus.
We are preoccupied by the external,
forsaking the locus of our sacred worth
that is our hearts and souls. Rather,
we gaze transfixed by ludi of clowns
who make us laugh, at inspiring athletes,
at plays and recitals, at celebrations
of our victorious battles, at gladiators
who thrill us by killing other gladiators
and lions and Christians, even at
public executions. Politicians sometimes
come to orate. But never do we hear
a word about love and being loved.

TOD HOWARD HAWKS