“We are like Yeat’s falcon, increasingly oblivious to the voice of the falconer. The center no longer holds. All is flung to the periphery, where its meaning is lost . . . We have become T.S. Eliot’s ‘hollow men,’ without weight, for whom appearance and image must suffice.” [David Wells, God in the Wasteland (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1994), p. 14.]
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