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Old Path White Cl...
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Jun 13, 2026 02:51PM

 
The Magic Mountain
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William James
“Ah! my brother," said a chieftain to his white
guest, "thou wilt never know the happiness of both thinking of nothing and doing nothing. This, next to sleep, is the most enchanting of all things. Thus we were before our birth, and thus we shall be after death. Thy people ... when they have finished reaping one field, they begin to plough another; and, if the day were not enough, I have seen them plough by moonlight. What is their life to ours,—the life that is as naught to them? Blind that they are, they lose it all! But we live in the present.”
William James, On a Certain Blindness in Human Beings

Thomas Mann
“Thought that can merge wholly into feeling, feeling that can merge wholly into thought—these are the artist's highest joy. And our solitary protagonist felt in himself at this moment power to command and wield a thought that thrilled with emotion, an emotion as precise and concentrated as thought: namely, that nature herself shivers with ecstasy when the mind bows down in homage before beauty.”
Thomas Mann, Death in Venice & Seven Other Stories

Michiko Aoyama
“Things change, even if you want them to stay the same. At the same time, you can try to change, but you will still remain the same.”
Michiko Aoyama, What You Are Looking for Is in the Library

“Therefore he was very far from regarding himself as a paradigm, a pattern or example to be followed; but, condemned to be the exception, he was able at last to comfort himself with the thought that as such he was a "corrective" and, alas, a "sacrifice".”
Walter Lowrie, A Short Life of Kierkegaard

Salman Rushdie
“I listened to her string of non sequiturs, entranced. I understood what she was telling us. There was no coherence. Nothing led to anything else. There were only jagged moments of half comprehension. Nothing could be known. We were all incomplete, unfinished. That was life until completed by death. And none of us could complete our own story because we would no longer be present. We were all frozen in our railway carriages waiting for another to finish our tale, to complete us, if anyone cared to do so. Otherwise, unfinishedness was our inescapable fate.”
Salman Rushdie, The Eleventh Hour: A Quintet of Stories
tags: death, life

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