From Robertson Davies’s novel The Rebel Angels:

wa2011torpassionplay-2701Oh, the endless task! One begins with no knowledge except that what one is doing is probably wrong, and that the right path is heavy with mist. When I was a hopeful youth I set myself to the Imitation of Christ, and like a fool I supposed that I must try to be like Christ in every possible detail, adjure people to do the right when I didn’t really know what the right was, and get myself spurned and scourged as quickly as possible. Crucifixion was not a modern method of social betterment, but at least I could push for psychological crucifixion, and I did, and hung on my cross until it began to dawn on me that I was a social nuisance and not a bit like Christ–even the tedious detraque Christ of my immature imagination…Gradually it came to me that the Imitation of Christ might not be a road-company performance of Christ’s Passion, with me as a pitifully badly cast actor in the principle role. Perhaps what was imitable about Christ was his firm acceptance of his destiny, and his adherence to it even when it lead to a shameful death.