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"I believe this textbook style book may be the slimmest anthropology book I’ve ever read. It’s intriguing because it tries to frame entrepreneurialism in a form of neutral language - critical but still kind of supportive of the subject of entrepreneurship. Wonder if there is a good read out there on the history of entrepreneurialization of life from a more political point of view. Probably is…" — Sep 19, 2025 12:16PM
"I believe this textbook style book may be the slimmest anthropology book I’ve ever read. It’s intriguing because it tries to frame entrepreneurialism in a form of neutral language - critical but still kind of supportive of the subject of entrepreneurship. Wonder if there is a good read out there on the history of entrepreneurialization of life from a more political point of view. Probably is…" — Sep 19, 2025 12:16PM
“And when she at last came out, her eyes were dry. Her parents stared up from their silent breakfast at her. They both started to rise but she put a hand out, stopped them. ‘I can care for myself, please,’ and she set about getting some food. They watched her closely.
In point of fact, she had never looked as well. She had entered her room as just an impossibly lovely girl. The woman who emerged was a trifle thinner, a great deal wiser, and an ocean sadder. This one understood the nature of pain, and beneath the glory of her features, there was character, and a sure knowledge of suffering.
She was eighteen. She was the most beautiful woman in a hundred years. She didn’t seem to care.
‘You’re all right?’ her mother asked.
Buttercup sipped her cocoa. ‘Fine,’ she said.
‘You’re sure?’ her father wondered.
‘Yes,’ Buttercup replied. There was a very long pause. ‘But I must never love again.’
She never did.”
― The Princess Bride
In point of fact, she had never looked as well. She had entered her room as just an impossibly lovely girl. The woman who emerged was a trifle thinner, a great deal wiser, and an ocean sadder. This one understood the nature of pain, and beneath the glory of her features, there was character, and a sure knowledge of suffering.
She was eighteen. She was the most beautiful woman in a hundred years. She didn’t seem to care.
‘You’re all right?’ her mother asked.
Buttercup sipped her cocoa. ‘Fine,’ she said.
‘You’re sure?’ her father wondered.
‘Yes,’ Buttercup replied. There was a very long pause. ‘But I must never love again.’
She never did.”
― The Princess Bride
“His talent was as natural as the pattern that was made by the dust on a butterfly's wings. At one time he understood it no more than the butterfly did and he did not know when it was brushed or marred. Later he became conscious of his damaged wings and of their construction and he learned to think and could not fly any more because the love of flight was gone and he could only remember when it had been effortless.”
―
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“Autumn teaches us that fruition is also death; that ripeness is a form of decay. The willows, having stood for so long near water, begin to rust. Leaves are verbs that conjugate the seasons.”
― The Solace of Open Spaces
― The Solace of Open Spaces
“Becoming "awake" involves seeing our confusion more clearly.”
― The Myth of Freedom and the Way of Meditation
― The Myth of Freedom and the Way of Meditation
“All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.
From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king.”
― The Fellowship of the Ring
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.
From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king.”
― The Fellowship of the Ring
Silje’s 2025 Year in Books
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