'...Through the mists and mephitic smoke of our confused age - our age that cries out to be beyond the good, when it is beneath the beautiful - through the thick air of indolence masquerading as toleration and indifference posing as sympathy, flashes the scorching sword of the Florentine's Disdain, dividing the just from the unjust, the true from the false, and the heroic from the commonplace. What matter if his "division" is not our "division," his "formula" our "formula"? It is good for us to be confronted with such Disdain. It brings us back once more to "Values"; and whether our "Values" are values of taste or values of devotion what matter? Life becomes once more arresting. The everlasting drama recovers its "tone"; and the high liturgy of the last illusion rolls forward to its own music.'
from Visions and Revisions by John Cowper Powys (Dante chapter)
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