A River Runs Through It
Like many fly fishermen in western Montana where the summer days are almost Arctic in length, I often do not start fishing until the cool of the evening. Then in the Arctic half-light of the canyon, all existence fades to a being with my soul and memories and the sounds of the Big Blackfoot River and a four-count rhythm and the hope that a fish will rise. Eventually, all things merge into one, and...
Do not let your fire go out, spark by irreplaceable spark in the hopeless swaps...
I just read the Wikipedia summary for “The God of Small Things”. I didn’t actually realize that Velutha died. I’m shattered. Completely shattered.
When you hurt people, they begin to love you less. That’s what careless...– The God of Small Things - Arundhati Roy
In the name of the best within you, do not sacrifice this world to those who are...– Ayn Rand - Atlas Shrugged