(i should work on my haunted holographics paper instead of going out tonight.)
Monthly Archives: October 2011
Misunderstandings and neglect occasion more mischief in the world than even malice and wickedness. -goethe
The foundation of all mental illness is the unwillingness to experience legitimate suffering. -jung
David Foster Wallace’s essay largely discusses television’s influence on fiction, which i could care less about, i don’t care if every idiot out there was irreparably scarred by television, I was never exposed to it and trying to expose myself to it now is impossible; I can’t understand how anyone could be so easily entertained. But I love this line and would like to take that idea and use it as a grounding statement for what I want to be doing with my fiction, as far as constructing a round world out of the multiple realities that to me stem from much more complicated sources than something like television.
p. 156 everything that happens once can never happen again. but everything that happens twice will surely happen a third time.
p. 159 ‘be aware of the places where you are brought to tears. that’s where i am, and that’s where your treasure is.
p. 70 universal language written with the words luck and coincidence
p. 74 the boy was beginning to understand that intuition is really a sudden immersion of the soul into the universal current of life, where the histories of all people are connected, and we are able to know everything, because it’s all written there.
p. 87 Because people become fascinated with pictures and words, and wind up forgetting the language of the world
p. 78 “That’s the principle that governs all things,” he said. “In alchemy, it’s called the soul of the world. When you want something with all your heart, that’s when you are closest to the soul of the world. It’s always a positive force.” (my ital)
p. 103 And God only rarely reveals the future. When he does so, it is for only one reason: it’s a future that was written so as to be altered.
P. 130 Tell your heart that the fear of suffering is worse than the suffering itself.
from Coehlo’s The Alchemist