I Sometimes Get Short-tempered In A Public

The Idea Of Death Robs Inquiry Of Its Passionate Vitality And Empties Our Efforts Of Their Purpose By Coming To One Predestined Conclusion, Death. Why Inquire If You Already Know The Answer?

We Must Look Back Over Our Lives And Look At Some Of The Accidents And Curiosities And Oddities And Troubles And Sicknesses And Begin To See More In Those Things Than We Saw Before. It Raises Questions, So That When Peculiar Little Accidents Happen, You Ask Whether There Is Something Else At Work In Your Life.

It's Better To Go Into The World Half-cocked Than Not To Go Into The World At All.

Tell Me What You Yearn For And I Shall Tell You Who You Are. We Are What We Reach For, The Idealized Image That Drives Our Wandering.

I Just Read About John Le Carre, The Great Spy Novelist. He Had An Absolutely Miserable Childhood. His Mother Deserted Him When He Was Young. His Father Was A Playboy And A Drunk. He Was Shifted Around To Many Different Homes. He Knew He Was A Writer When He Was About Nine, But He Was Dyslexic. So Here Was A Person With An Absolutely Messed-up Childhood And A Symptom That Prevented Him From Doing What He Wanted To Do Most. Yet That Very Symptom Was Part Of The Calling. It Forced Him To Go Deeper.