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“The days aren't discarded or collected, they are bees
that burned with sweetness or maddened
the sting: the struggle continues,
the journeys go and come between honey and pain.
No, the net of years doesn't unweave: there is no net.
They don't fall drop by drop from a river: there is no river.
Sleep doesn't divide life into halves,
or action, or silence, or honor:
life is like a stone, a single motion,
a lonesome bonfire reflected on the leaves,
an arrow, only one, slow or swift, a metal
that climbs or descends burning in your bones.”
― Still Another Day
that burned with sweetness or maddened
the sting: the struggle continues,
the journeys go and come between honey and pain.
No, the net of years doesn't unweave: there is no net.
They don't fall drop by drop from a river: there is no river.
Sleep doesn't divide life into halves,
or action, or silence, or honor:
life is like a stone, a single motion,
a lonesome bonfire reflected on the leaves,
an arrow, only one, slow or swift, a metal
that climbs or descends burning in your bones.”
― Still Another Day
“The secret of joy is the mastery of pain.”
―
―
“We don't see things as they are, we see them as we are.”
―
―
“Beauty is rarely soft or consolatory. Quite the contrary. Genuine beauty is always quite alarming.”
― The Secret History
― The Secret History
“If what Proust says is true, that happiness is the absence of fever, then I will never know happiness. For I am possessed by a fever for knowledge, experience, and creation.”
―
―
Almost Fearless: Monthly Travel Book Club
— 310 members
— last activity Feb 18, 2023 11:23AM
A book club started by Christine Gilbert of http://almostfearless.com -- we read one travel or memoir title per month.
M’s 2025 Year in Books
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