“Behold, I am with you and will keep you wherever you go, and will bring you back to this land. For I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you.” (Genesis 28:15,
“If God will be with me and will keep me in this way that I go, and will give me bread to eat and clothing to wear, so that I come again to my father’s house in peace, then the LORD shall be my God, and this stone, which I have set up for a pillar, shall be God’s house. And of all that you give me I will give a full tenth to you.” (Genesis 28:20-22,
We spend the prime of our sleepless nights in mentally mangling our enemies, rending their entails, wringing their veins, trampling each organ to mush, and charitably leaving them the skeleton to enjoy. Whereupon we forbear, over come by fatigue, and drop off to sleep. A well-earned rest after so much scruple, so much zeal. Moreover we must recover our strength in order to begin all over again the next night—resuming a labor that would discourage the most Herculean butcher. No doubt about it; having enemies is no sinecure.
The program of our nights would be less crowded if by day we could give our resentment free rein. To achieve not even happiness, merely equilibrium, we need to liquidate a good number of our kind, to inflict a regular hecatomb in the fashion of our remote and relaxed ancestors. Not so relaxed, it will be objected—the caveman’s demographic poverty denying him any continuous opportunity for slaughter. So be it!But he had compensations, he was better provided for than we are: rushing off to hunt at all hours, falling upon wild beasts, it was still his own species he was destroying. Blood-baptized, he could readily indulge his frenzy; no need for him to disguise and defer his sanguinary intentions, whereas we are doomed to review and repress our lust for rapine till it shrivels within us—reduced to curbing, to postponing, even to renouncing our revenge.
E M Cioran —History and Utopia —Odyssey of Rancor
“If he stayed at home and carried on with his normal life he would be a thousand times superior to these people and could get any of them out of his way just with a kick.” -Franz Kafka -The Trial