“There is always the temptation in life to diddle around making itsy-bitsy friends and meals and journeys for years on end. It is all so self conscience, so apparently moral…But I won’t have it. The world is wilder than that in all directions, more dangerous…more extravagant and bright. We are…raising tomatoes when we should be raising Cain, or Lazarus.”—Annie Dillard
It flows thru
the death of me
like a river
American poet Gregory Nunzio Corso (26 March 1930 – 17 January 2001) died of prostate cancer. His ashes were deposited at the foot of the grave of poet Percy Bysshe Shelley in the Cimitero Acattolico, the Protestant Cemetery in Rome. Although Corso was Catholic and the cemetery was strictly Protestant, an exception was made for him. Corso also wrote his own epitaph, above.
“Stored away in some brain cell is the image of a long-departed aunt you haven’t thought of in 30 years. Stored away in another cell is the image of a pink pony stitched on your first set of baby pajamas. All it takes to get that aunt mounted on the back of that pony is to eat a hunk of meatloaf immediately before going to bed.”—Robert Brault
“So, I guess we are who we are for a lot of reasons. And maybe we’ll never know most of them. But even if we don’t have the power to choose where we come from, we can still choose where we go from there. We can still do things. And we can try to feel okay about them.”—Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower
Preheat oven to 350°. Mix together 1 cup creamy peanut butter, 1/2 cup sugar, and 1 large egg. Drop by tablespoonfuls on ungreased baking sheet. Smoosh down the center of each cookie slightly with a moistened finger. Optionally, you can sprinkle the cookies with a bit of coarse sea salt before baking, but I prefer to let the peanut butter shine on its own. Bake 10 to 13 minutes until cookies seem set. These cookies do not brown, so be careful not to burn. And while they may crumble a bit easier than other cookies, they are absolutely delicious.
Anyone who others think knows a lot about something. These days, it’s not only what you know that counts, but also who hears you. Resonance, not authenticity, is the key ingredient of expertise in the Information Age.”—All Skewed Up (defunct website)
“By 30 you’re no longer a child. What’s often admired in femininity is, as the abstinence speakers say, being as fresh as an un-licked ringpop. White girls particularly (I’m half-white, but aspirin-pale), are imagined to posses innocence. Innocence is supposed to be preserved.
Innocence is not doing. Not running off to New York. Not drinking whiskey till 4 AM. Not fucking that boy or girl because they make your heart scream electric, then waking up unpunished the next day. Not hacking a system rigged against you. Innocence is a relic of a time when women had the same legal status as children. Innocence is beneficial to your owner. It benefits you not at all.”—Molly Crabapple
“There are some people you like immediately, some whom you think you might learn to like in the fullness of time, and some that you simply want to push away from you with a sharp stick.”—Douglas Adams, The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul