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Story is our only boat for sailing on the river of time, but in the great rapids and the winding shallows, no boat is safe.
“I’m a widowed house, cloistered in itself, haunted by shy and furtive ghosts. I’m always in the next room, or they are, and the trees loudly rustle all around me. I wander and find; I find because I wander.
And during all of this I walk down the street, a wandering sleephead, a stray leaf. Some slow wind has swept me off the ground and I drift, like the end of twilight, among the details of the landscape. My eyelids weigh heavy on my dragging feet. Because I’m walking I feel like sleeping. My mouth is shut as if to seal my lips.
I walk the way a ship sinks.
from "The Faceless Biography”
― The Book of Disquiet: The Complete Edition
And during all of this I walk down the street, a wandering sleephead, a stray leaf. Some slow wind has swept me off the ground and I drift, like the end of twilight, among the details of the landscape. My eyelids weigh heavy on my dragging feet. Because I’m walking I feel like sleeping. My mouth is shut as if to seal my lips.
I walk the way a ship sinks.
from "The Faceless Biography”
― The Book of Disquiet: The Complete Edition
“It is not that love sometimes makes mistakes, but that it is, essentially, a mistake. We fall in love when our imagination projects nonexistent perfections on to another person. One day the phantasmagoria vanishes, and with it love dies. Ortega y Gasset, On Love”
― The Einstein Intersection
― The Einstein Intersection
“She has seen dieback across the West. Aspens are withering. Grazed on by everything with hooves, cut off from rejuvenating fire, whole groves are vanishing. Now she sees a forest, spreading across these mountains since before humans left Africa, giving way to second homes. She sees it in one great glimpse of flashing gold: trees and humans, at war over the land and water and atmosphere. And she can hear, louder than the quaking leaves, which side will lose by winning.”
― The Overstory
― The Overstory
“In a world of perfect utility, we, too, will be forced to vanish.”
― The Overstory
― The Overstory
“Grass! Millions of square miles of it; numberless wind-whipped tsunamis of grass, a thousand sun-lulled caribbeans of grass, a hundred rippling oceans, every ripple a gleam of scarlet or amber, emerald or turquoise, multicolored as rainbows, the colors shivering over the prairies in stripes and blotches, the grasses – some high, some low, some feathered, some straight – making their own geography as they grow. There are grass hills where the great plumes tower in masses the height of ten tall men; grass valleys where the turf is like moss, soft under the feet, where maidens pillow their heads thinking of their lovers, where husbands lie down and think of their mistresses; grass groves where old men and women sit quiet at the end of the day, dreaming of things that might have been, perhaps once were. Commoners all, of course. No aristocrat would sit in the wild grass to dream. Aristocrats have gardens for that, if they dream at all.”
― Grass
― Grass
Saurabh’s 2024 Year in Books
Take a look at Saurabh’s Year in Books, including some fun facts about their reading.
84 books
|
147 friends
787 books
|
41 friends
256 books
|
303 friends
264 books
|
186 friends
39 books
|
130 friends
0 books
|
6 friends
84 books
|
1,386 friends
1 book
|
142 friends
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