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I walk in the direction she tells me. I feel my pores opening, sweat and heat radiating out of my body. A firefly dances in the distance, leaving tracers, and if I turn my head from side to side, I see long yellow-green streaks that cut through my vision and burn in front of my retinas even after the light that sparked them has gone. I emerge from the mango grove into a field. In the distance unseen trucks pass with a sound like the ocean licking the sand. A tracery of darkness curls into a starry sky, a solitary pipal tree making itself known by an absence of light, like a flame caught in a photographer's negative, frozen, calling me. ↗
One of the key characteristics of an elite corps is its susceptibility to those more powerful than itself. Elite power is naturally attracted to a power hierarchy and fits itself neatly, obediently into the one that promises the most personal benefits. Here is the Achilles’ heel of armies, police and bureaucracies. ↗
Wenn wir sehen, wie die Menschen altern und nach gewisser Zeit einer nach dem anderen sterben, Jahrhundert für Jahrhundert, dann können wir nur lachen über das Elixier, das die Verlängerung des Lebens auf über tausend Jahre verspricht; mit gleichem Recht ist der Lexikograph zu verspotten, der ohne das Beispiel einer Nation anführen zu können, die ihre Wörter und Ausdrücke vor Veränderlichkeit bewahrte, sich einbildet, sein Wörterbuch könne seine Sprache einbalsamieren, vor Verfälschung schützen und Verfall, und der meint, es stehe in seiner Macht, irdische Natur zu ändern oder die Welt mit einem Schlag von Verrücktheit, Eitelkeit und Affektiertheit zu befreien. ↗
Be ye holy, for I am holy.’ It is as if God said, Holiness is my blessedness and my glory: without this you cannot, in the very nature of things, see me or enjoy me. Holiness is my blessedness and my glory: there is nothing higher to be conceived; I invited you to share with me in it, I invite you to likeness to myself: ‘Be ye holy, for I am holy.’ Is it not enough, has it no attraction, does it not move and draw you mightily, the hope of being with me, partakers of my Holiness? I have nothing better to offer—I offer you myself: ‘Be holy, for I am holy.’ Shall we not cry earnestly to God to show us the glory of His Holiness, that our souls may be made willing to give everything in response to this wondrous call? [. . .] In the deepest meaning of the words: where God enters to rest, there He sanctifies. [. . .] It is as we enter into the rest of God that we become partakers of His Holiness. [. . .] Rest belongeth unto God: He alone can give it, by making us share His own. [. . .] He had been known to Abraham as God Almighty, the God of Promise (Ex. vi. 3 ). He would now manifest Himself as Jehovah, the God of Fulfilment [. . .] ↗
Maybe Laura’s real problem came in admitting this: there was nothing new under the sun. To write a story would be, somehow deep down, to embrace her limits, to admit that, indeed, she would someday die—if not of a worm or a ceiling, then of something else. The very nature of a story admitted this reality. To be a writer was to say, yes, I am just another Murasaki, and it is quite possible that no one will remember my name. ↗
It neither kills outright nor inflicts apparent physical harm, yet the extent of its destructive toll is already greater than that of any war, plague, famine, or natural calamity on record - and its potential damage to the quality of human life and the fabric of civilized society is beyond calculation. For that reason this sickness of the soul might well be called the 'Fifth Horseman of the Apocalypse.' Its more conventional name, of course, is dehumanization. ↗
There are mornings on this road trip as the early light gathers itself, something quite unexpected happens. My camera pushes me aside and takes on a life of it's own, conspiring with nature and becoming a veritable paintbrush. I'd like to take credit for the end result, but I know it would be a lie. ↗
