The Confessions of Saint Augustine (Outler)/Book II/Chapter X
Who can disentangle that twisted and intricate knottiness? Foul
is it: I hate to think on it, to look on it. But Thee I long for,
O Righteousness and Innocency, beautiful and comely to all pure eyes,
and of a satisfaction unsating. With Thee is rest entire, and life
imperturbable. Whoso enters into Thee, enters into the joy of his
Lord: and shall not fear, and shall do excellently in the All-Excellent.
I sank away from Thee, and I wandered, O my God, too much astray from
Thee my stay, in these days of my youth, and I became to myself a barren land.