Living in chemoland is unpleasant. Contemplating the majesty of my King is not. To that end, I offer us all a passage from The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis:
“Who is Aslan?”
asked Susan.
“Aslan:” said
Mr. Beaver, “Why don’t you know? He’s the King. . . . It is he, not you, that
will save Mr. Tumnus. . . .”
“Is – is he a
man?” asked Lucy.
“Aslan a man!”
said Mr. Beaver sternly. “Certainly not. I tell you he is the King of the wood
and the son of the great Emperor-Beyond-the-Sea. Don’t you know who is the King
of Beasts? Aslan is a lion – the Lion,
the great Lion.”
“Ooh!” said
Susan. “I’d thought he was a man. Is he – quite safe? I shall feel rather
nervous about meeting a lion.”
“That you
will, dearie, and no mistake,” said Mrs. Beaver, “if there’s anyone who can
appear before Aslan without their knees knocking, they’re either braver than
most or else just silly.”
“Then he isn’t
safe?” said Lucy.
“Safe?” said
Mr. Beaver. “Don’t you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Who said anything about
safe? ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the King, I tell you.”
“I’m longing
to see him,” said Peter, “even if I do feel frightened when it comes to the
point.”