Val Elm

“Are wild strawberries really wild?
Will they scratch an adult, will they snap at a child?

Should you pet them, or let them run free where they roam?
Could they ever relax in a steam-heated home?

Can they be trained to not growl at the guests?
Will a litterbox work or would they make a mess?

Can we make them a Cowberry, herding the cows,
or maybe a Muleberry pulling the plows,
or maybe a Huntberry chasing the grouse,
or maybe a Watchberry guarding the house,

and though they may curl up at your feet oh so sweetly
can you ever feel that you trust them completely?

Or should we make a pet out of something less scary,
like the Domestic Prune or the Imported Cherry,

Anyhow, you've been warned and I will not be blamed
if your Wild Strawberries cannot be tamed.”
― Shel Silverstein, Where the Sidewalk Ends

“We are all measured, good or evil, by the wrong we do to others; I had made a monster and turned it loose upon the world and--since recognition is, after all, the cruelest pain--had seen it clearly and with understanding.”
― Shirley Jackson, The Bird's Nest

“It is my job to create universes, as the basis of one novel after another. And I have to build them in such a way that they do not fall apart two days later. Or at least that is what my editors hope. However, I will reveal a secret to you: I like to build universes which do fall apart. I like to see them come unglued, and I like to see how the characters in the novels cope with this problem. I have a secret love of chaos. There should be more of it. Do not believe — and I am dead serious when I say this — do not assume that order and stability are always good, in a society or in a universe. The old, the ossified, must always give way to new life and the birth of new things. Before the new things can be born the old must perish. This is a dangerous realization, because it tells us that we must eventually part with much of what is familiar to us. And that hurts. But that is part of the script of life. Unless we can psychologically accommodate change, we ourselves begin to die, inwardly. What I am saying is that objects, customs, habits, and ways of life must perish so that the authentic human being can live. And it is the authentic human being who matters most, the viable, elastic organism which can bounce back, absorb, and deal with the new.”
― Philip K. Dick

“audience, not interrupting once, only darting a few disbelieving looks at him. ‘God Almighty,’ Painter said when Ryan finished. Davenport just stared poker-faced as he contemplated the possibility of examining a Soviet missile sub from the inside. Jack decided he’d be a formidable opponent over cards. Painter went on, ‘Do you really believe this?’ ‘Yes, sir, I do.’ Ryan poured himself another cup of coffee. He would have preferred a beer to go with his corned beef. It hadn’t been bad at all, and good kosher corned beef was something he’d been unable to find in London. Painter leaned back and looked at Davenport. ‘Charlie, you tell Greer to teach this lad a few lessons – like how a bureaucrat ain’t supposed to stick his neck this far out on the block. Don’t you think this is a little far-fetched?’ ‘Josh, Ryan here’s the guy who did the report last June on Soviet missile-sub patrol patterns.’ ‘Oh? That was a nice piece of work. It confirmed something I’ve been saying for two or three years.’ Painter rose and walked to the corner to look out at the stormy sea. ‘So, what are we supposed to do about all this?”
― Tom Clancy, The Hunt for Red October