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Sunday, September 25, 2016

Whiskey Triggered Friskey


...

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Monday, December 14, 2015

Kismet







"The dews drop slowly and dreams gather; unknown spears
 Suddenly hurtle before my dream-awakened eyes,
 And then the clash of fallen horsemen and the cries
 Of unknown perishing armies beat about my ears..."

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Friday, January 24, 2014

And so each venture Is a new beginning...


"The mushroom said to me once; it said this is what it's like, when a species prepares to depart for the stars. You don't depart for the stars under calm and orderly conditions, it's a fire in a madhouse; and that's what we have... the fire in the madhouse at the end of time."

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Saturday, February 23, 2013

Terminalia



True happiness is to be forgotten and to have the chance to start over again.

Lenín Moreno



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Sunday, July 17, 2011

The world turns.

"I demanded a realm in which I should be both master and slave at the same time: the world of art is the only such realm. I entered it without any apparent talent, a thorough novice, incapable, awkward, tongue-tied, almost paralyzed by fear and apprehensiveness. I had to lay one brick on another, set millions of words to paper before writing one real, authentic word dragged up from my own guts. The facility of speech which I possessed was a handicap; I had all the vices of the educated man. I had to learn to think, feel and see in a totally new fashion, in an uneducated way, in my own way, which is the hardest thing in the world. I had to throw myself into the current, knowing that I would probably sink..."

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Monday, May 23, 2011

Eight by the way of two



Voltaire (on his death bed, when asked by a priest to renounce Shaitan) said:
"Now now, dear man, this is not the time to be making enemies."

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Friday, November 05, 2010

Remember



And so each venture
Is a new beginning, a raid on the inarticulate.

So here I am, in the middle way, having had
twenty years -
Twenty years largely wasted, the years of
l'entre deux guerres -
Trying to use words, and every attempt
Is a wholly new start, and a different kind
of failure
Because one has only learnt to get the better
of words
For the thing one no longer has to say, or
the way in which
One is no longer disposed to say it. And so
each venture
Is a new beginning, a raid on the inarticulate,
With shabby equipment always deteriorating
In the general mess of imprecision of feeling,
Undisciplined squads of emotion. And what
there is to conquer
By strength and submission, has already
been discovered
Once or twice, or several times, by men whom
one cannot hope
To emulate - but there is no competition -
There is only the fight to recover
what has been lost
And found and lost again and again: and now,
under conditions
That seem unpropitious. But perhaps neither
gain nor loss.
For us, there is only the trying. The rest is not
our business.

--T. S. Eliot
East Coker
Four Quartets

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