I’m logging out, hopefully for the next 2+ weeks. If I get on again within that time period one of you who is close to me please just slap the shit out of me (lovingly), because I cannot afford to spend any time on here when I don’t even have enough time for the other stuff that I need to do.
I think we ought to read only the kind of books that wound or stab us. If the book we’re reading doesn’t wake us up with a blow to the head, what are we reading for? So that it will make us happy, as you write? Good Lord, we would be happy precisely if we had no books, and the kind of books that make us happy are the kind we could write ourselves if we had to. But we need books that affect us like a disaster, that grieve us deeply, like the death of someone we loved more than ourselves, like being banished into forests far from everyone, like a suicide. A book must be the axe for the frozen sea within us. That is my belief.
Franz Kafka (via writeyourfuckinghonoursthesis)
What amazes me so much about him is that he was able to write and produce at all, not to mention so influentially.
"I tend to be cynical about a lot of things, but Maya Angelou is somebody that no matter how much I pick her apart, she still has integrity. She was a victim of incest and rape, and she worked as a stripper. And now she’s a literary icon and Nobel Laureate. It goes to show that life is cumulative, and you can’t devalue any type of experience."
Venice in the fog