Bits and pieces from literature, philosophy, and music. The plan is to keep all of my favourite passages here in the one place.
Very occasionally I put things into my own words here. Mostly these things will be things I am trying to figure out or remember - dreams, for example.
Anything pre-2008 is from my hopeless teenage years, when I used this space as a blog/diary. Read at your own risk.
Rules While I'm Gone
by: K. de Marquiz
To all my students,
Thank you for a great year.
I have the Best Job in the world.
I really mean that. I can do anything I want and working here really makes me happy. On those days I really feel bad, you guys cheer me up and make me want to work harder. Just think how hard it will be to keep up with me when I don't hurt anymore.
I love you all madly
(meaning the band)
RULES WHILE I'M GONE:
1. John - Don't lock anyone in cage.
2. Ramon - Go to class.
3. Mongare - Don't play the drums.
4. Ramon - Go to class.
Excerpt from Repetition
by: S. Kierkegaard.
"I stick my finger into existence - it smells of nothing. Where am I? What is this thing called the world? Who is it who has lured me into the thing, and now leaves me here? Who am I? How did I come into the world? Why was I not consulted?"
I love Vegetables (from Spanish)
I worship vegetables. I want beans, the zanahorias, they crush, the peas, and especially broccoli. I worship raw broccoli or cooked. I worship also pesto of basil, in pastes or in a sandwich. I worship also pate of chickpeas in the bread of Turcs. I worship sushi because is delicious and light. I worship also the hamburgers of vegetarian with cheese, with salad, and with roasted zucchini, the pumpkin, or the worthless one. I worship also tomatoes dried al sun, cheese of sheet, Turkish bread, and lattes hot of chai.
In the morning I worship sandwiches of banana and peanut butter. At night I worship hot cocoa and rum. I worship food in general.
Excerpt from The Red Pony
by: John Steinbeck.
"That made Jody feel warm and proud, too; so proud that when he went back to the house he bowed his legs and swayed his shoulders as horsemen do. And he whispered, "Whoa, you Black Demon, you! Steady down there and keep your feet on the ground!"
Monday November 27, 2006
Thursday, November 23, 2006
As I walk through floury halls,
and past egg-smeared windows, I wonder -
why am I inside a cake?
Lovers on a Park Bench
by: Samuel Johnson.
The day with its cares and perplexities is ended and the night is now upon us. The night should be a time of peace and tranquility, a time to relax and be calm. We have need of a soothing story to banish the disturbing thoughts of the day, to set at rest our troubled minds, and put to ease our ruffled spirits.
And what sort of story shall we hear? Ah, it will be a familiar story, a story that is so very, very old, and yet it is so new. It is the old, old story of love.
Two lovers sat on a park bench, with their bodies touching each other, holding hands in the moonlight.
There was silence between them. So profound was their love for each other, they needed no words to express it. And so they sat in silence, on a park bench, with their bodies touching, holding hands in the moonlight.
Finally she spoke. "Do you love me, John?" she asked. "You know I love you, darling," he replied. "I love you more than tongue can tell. You are the light of my life, my sun, moon and stars. You are my everything. Without you I have no reason for being."
Again there was silence as the two lovers sat on a park bench, their bodies touching, holding hands in the moonlight. Once more she spoke. "How much do you love me, John?" she asked. He answered: "How much do I love you? Count the stars in the sky. Measure the waters of the oceans with a teaspoon. Number the grains of sand on the sea shore. Impossible, you say."
"Yes and it is just as impossible for me to say how much I love you."
"My love for you is higher than the heavens, deeper than Hades, and broader than the earth. It has no limits, no bounds. Everything must have an ending except my love for you."
The was more silence as the two lovers sat on a park bench with their bodies touching, holding hands in the moonlight.
Once more her voice was heard. "Kiss me, John," she implored. And leaning over, he pressed his lips warmly to hers in fervent osculation. ...
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