In Quest of Angels

Some believe in angels. I don’t. Yet I was long in quest of them. But when I found them, well, they weren’t real angels. But that doesn’t matter! Just the idea of an angel is beautiful. That idea of man flying with the wings of birds, of combining in the same creature man and beast. Of course before the angel there were other mythical winged creatures: the winged bulls of Babylon, the half-eagle half-lion griffon, the winged horse Pegasus, But the angel is a gentle creature — no hooked beak, no sharp claws—a somewhat ambiguous being, halfway between the beautiful blond adolescent and the rosy young woman. One would never be afraid to meet an angel, one would be charmed, transported in the two senses of the world. Transported above the earth in a blue and weightless dream…

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