On the trees are only a few gnarled apples that the pickers have rejected. They look like the knuckles of Doctor Reefy’s hands. One nibbles at them and they are delicious. Into a little round place at the side of the apple has been gathered all of its sweetness. One runs from tree to tree over the frosted ground picking the gnarled, twisted apples and filling his pockets with them. Only the few know the sweetness of the twisted apples.
“Paper Pills”. Winesburg, Ohio. Sherwood Anderson. 1919. (via neandrewthal
it’s about time i started on my novel.
DFD — ARE WE THERE YET
Man is not only that which he conceives himself to be, but that which he wills himself to be, and since he conceives of himself only after he exists, just as he wills himself to be after being thrown into existence, man is nothing other than what he makes of himself.
Jean-Paul Sartre, Existentialism is a Humanism
Pixies - Where is My Mind
A Sunday morning cartoon. For more from this week’s issue: http://nyr.kr/MLv8gn
The more you know the less you understand.
Lao Tzu, Tao Te Ching