“Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity…
And what rough Beast, its hour come ’round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?”
W. B. Yeats, The Second Coming, 1919
