Sueann Scherzer

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Hermann Hesse
“I called the world of phenomena an illusion, I called my eyes and my tongue and accident, valueless phenomena. No, that is all over; I have awakened, I have really awakened and have just been born today.”
Hermann Hesse, Siddhartha

Jon Scieszka
“Minecraft”
Jon Scieszka, Terrifying Tales

S.W. Clemens
“Each day a whole world passes away, largely unappreciated, numbly relegated to obligation, commerce and routine. One day seems as unremarkable as the next. It's only through the inexorable accretion of days, weeks, months and years, that we come to appreciate with heartbreaking clarity how incredibly unique and precious each lost day has been.”
S.W. Clemens

Astrid Lindgren
“The children came to a perfume shop. In the show window was a large jar of freckle salve, and beside the jar was a sign, which read: DO YOU SUFFER FROM FRECKLES?

'What does the sign say?' ask Pippi. She couldn’t read very well because she didn’t want to go to school as other children did.

'It says, "Do you suffer from freckles?"' said Annika.

'Does it indeed?' said Pippi thoughtfully. 'Well, a civil question deserves a civil answer. Let’s go in.'

She opened the door and entered the shop, closely followed by Tommy and Annika. An elderly lady stood back of the counter. Pippi went right up to her. 'No!' she said decidedly.

'What is it you want?' asked the lady.

'No,' said Pippi once more.

'I don’t understand what you mean,' said the lady.

'No, I don’t suffer from freckles,' said Pippi.

Then the lady understood, but she took one look at Pippi and burst out, 'But, my dear child, your whole face is covered with freckles!'

'I know it,' said Pippi, 'but I don’t suffer from them. I love them. Good morning.'

She turned to leave, but when she got to the door she looked back and cried, 'But if you should happen to get in any salve that gives people more freckles, then you can send me seven or eight jars.”
Astrid Lindgren, Pippi Longstocking

Eugene O'Neill
“I lay on the bowsprit, facing astern, with the water foaming into spume under me, the masts with every sail white in the moonlight, towering high above me. I became drunk with the beauty and singing rhythm of it, and for a moment I lost myself—actually lost my life. I was set free! I dissolved in the sea, became white sails and flying spray, became beauty and rhythm, became moonlight and the ship and the high dim-starred sky! I belonged, without past or future, within peace and unity and a wild joy, within something greater than my own life, or the life of Man, to Life itself!”
Eugene O'Neill

year in books

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