Wednesday, November 29, 2006

The Prophecy of Merlyn

“I do not think much of it as a quest,” said Kay. “He only went after the hawk, after all.”

“And got the hawk, Master Kay,” said Hob, reprovingly.

“Oh well,” said Kay, “I bet the old man caught it for him.”

“Kay,” said Merlyn, suddenly terrible, “thou wast ever a proud and ill-tongued speaker, and a misfortunate one. Thy sorrow will come from thine own mouth.”

At this everybody felt uncomfortable, and Kay, instead of flying in his usual passion, hung his head. He was not an unpleasant boy really, but clever, quick, passionate and ambitious. He was one of those people who would never be a follower nor a leader, but only an aspiring heart, impatient in the failing body which imprisoned him.

-excerpt from T.H. White’s The Once and Future King

Finding for a phrase which explains what I feel about this passage—

It broke my heart. I may have been Kay, for all Merlyn knew. Now I’m supposed to write about how frustrated I am about my limitations—about the things I knew I could do and wanted badly to do but somehow never found the strength to—but something keeps catching as I try to type them. Someday, when I put them down in words, I may have overcome them. But it may be a day I for which I could not afford to wait.