Friday, February 7, 2014


There's no real theme to these quotes. Just stuff I've written down at some point, for some reason often lost to me.

With us, positive knowledge so greatly overflows our imaginative powers that our imagination, unable to apprehend the world that is revealed to it, has no other alternative than to run to myth again.
Levi-Strauss, The Story of Lynx


Every world must be won by interpretation, of which common sense, science, and religion are all variants.
Stewart Guthrie, Faces in the Clouds

All money, false or true, depends on a confidence trick.
Mary Douglas , Purity and Danger


Truth is what you make it.
Roger Zelazny, Lord of Light


It has not been recorded that any human being has gained a very large or permanent contentment from meditating upon the fact that he is better off than others.
Sinclair Lewis, Main Street

You know, I like to think that I am general enough and common enough so that I have some empathetic approach to nearly every human emotion and feeling and thought. Of course it is only that I like to think this. It does not make it true but if it were true I would be a better writer for it. There is one field of feeling, however, in which either I am different from most people or they do not tell the truth—perhaps not knowing it or not daring to face it or perhaps feeling that it is a monstrous thing which should not be brought to light. I don’t know that this is so. I simply offer these as reasons why people do not seem to feel as I do. I refer to the will to live. I have very little of it. This must not be confused with a death wish. I have no will to die but I can remember no time from earliest childhood until this morning when I would not have preferred never to have existed. No moment of joy or excitement or sharp experience of pain or sorrow has even made me want to be alive if the opposite were possible. You see it is no longing for death but a kind of hunger never to have lived. The few times I have stated this I have been attacked with everything from straight disbelief to a kind of hatred as though I were a traitor to life. And perhaps I am.
John Steinbeck, Journal of a Novel

I remember the lies, but the truth escapes me.
Paul McGarity

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