I searched for the old topic and couldn't find it, so I thought I'd start a new one.
I can't remember if I posted this one in the last thread, but I like it so much that I don't care.
From one of Akka's chapters in PoN:
QUOTE
A book was never "read." Here, as elsewhere, language betrayed the true nature of the activity. To say that a book was read was to make the same mistake as the gambler who crowed about winning as though he'd taken it by force of hand or resolve. To toss the number-sticks was to seize a moment of helplessness, nothing more. But to open a book was by far the more profound gamble. To open a book was not only to seize a moment of helplessness, not only to relinquish a jealous handful of heartbeats to the unpredictable mark of another man's quill, it was to allow oneself to be written. For what was a book if not a long consecutive surrender to the movements of another's soul?
I think this Langston Hughes poem is pretty appropriate for the board, especially General Chatter.
QUOTE
Looks like what drives me crazy
Don't have no effect on you--
But I'm gonna keep on at it
Till it drives you crazy, too.
Aaaaaannnnnddddd some Joyce, just for fun:
QUOTE(Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man)
Mother indulgent. Said I have a queer mind and have read too much. Not true. Have read little and understood less. Then she said I would come back to faith because I had a restless mind. This means to leave church by backdoor of sin and reenter through the skylight of repentance. Cannot repent. Told her so and asked for sixpence. Got threepence.
Ok, remember, everything's fair game--from fiction to poetry to drama to whatever. Have at it.