Torn out with irons

We are not those rosy-cheeked saints with golden beards whom pious folk behold in pictures, whose eloquence and perfect health even philosophers would envy. Our task is not as the world imagines it. Compared to it, even the urge of genius is a frivolous game. Lord, every life finely lived bears witness to You. But the witness which is borne by saints must be torn with irons out of their bodies.