But the fervour of our admiration and the burden of saintliness which weighed on the chain that gripped his wrists–his hair had had time to grow and the curls had matted over his forehead with the cunning cruelty of the twists of the crown of thorns–caused the chain to be transformed before our unastonished eyes into a garland of white flowers. The transformation began at the left wrist, which it encircled with a bracelet of flowers, and continued along the chain, from link to link, to the right wrist.
–Jean Genet, The Miracle of the Rose

I’m no longer wildly impressed with Genet; but I figured I’d post this, since it’s the feast day of St. Elizabeth of Hungary, and this passage is one reason I chose her as my Confirmation saint.