.write into my soul.
.something of a recluse.☮


"This world, I thought to myself, is such a fantastic miracle that it’s hard to know whether one ought to laugh or cry. Perhaps one should do both, but it isn’t easy to do both at the same time."

Jostein Gaarder, “The Solitaire Mystery”
"It was the same with everything- with the whole world, I thought to myself. As long as we are children, we have the ability to experience things around us- but then we grow used to the world. To grow up is to get drunk on sensual experience."

Jostein Gaarder, “The Solitaire Mystery”
13. September 2013

The Yesees said yes to anything
That anyone suggested.
The Noees said no to everything
Unless it was proven and tested.
So the Yesees all died of much too much
And the Noees all died of fright,
But somehow I thnk the Thinkforyourselfees 
All came out all right.

-Shel Silverstein, “Every Thing On It”

"It is quite extraordinary the kind of thoughts and ideas we have, but our very deepest thoughts jump out only when we are asleep."

Jostein Gaarder, “The Solitaire Mystery”
12. September 2013

Although I cannot see your face
As you flip these poems for awhile,
Somewhere from some far-off place
I hear you laughing - and I smile.

-Shel Silverstein, “Every Thing On It” 

This is a brilliant book with such a magnificent message encompassed in a creative manner through beautiful visuals and text. Definitely one of my favourite children’s picture book of all time!Love Michael Hall! :)


"People don’t love each other at our age, Marthe—they please each other, that’s all. Later on, when you’re old and impotent, you can love someone. At our age, you just think you do. That’s all it is."

Albert Camus, “A Happy Death.”
2. May 2013

stumbled upon this book at the library earlier today and it instantaneously became one of my favourite picture books ever.




"To begin with, poor people’s memory is less nourished than that of the rich; it has fewer landmarks in space because they seldom leave the place where they live, and fewer reference points in time throughout lives that are gray and featureless. Of course there is the memory of the heart that they say is the surest kind, but the heart wears out with sorrow and labour, it forgets sooner under the weight of fatigue. Remembrance of things past is just for the rich. For the poor it only marks the faint traces on the path to death. And besides, in order to bear up well, one must not remember too much, but rather, stick close to the passing day, hour by hour."

Albert Camus, “The First Man.”
"I am nothing, I know it, but my nothing comprises a little bit of everything."

Victor Hugo, “The Rhine.”
"It was the worst of all in class, though. That was the worst. What happened was, I got the idea in my head - and I could not get it out - that college was just one more dopey, inane place in the world dedicated to piling up treasure on earth and everything. I mean treasure is treasure, for heavens sake. What’s the difference whether the treasure is money, or property, or even just plain knowledge? It all seemed like exactly the same thing to me, if you take off the wrapping - and it still does! Sometimes I think that knowledge - when it’s knowledge for knowledge’s sake, anyway - is the worst of all. The least inexcusable, certainly. I don’t think it would have all got me quite so down if just once in a while - there was at least some polite little perfunctory implication that knowledge should lead to wisdom, and that if it doesn’t, it’s just a disgusting waste of time!"

J.D Salinger, “Franny and Zooey.”
"All I know is I’m losing my mind. I’m just sick of ego, ego, ego. My own and everybody else’s. I’m sick of everybody that wants to get somewhere, do something distinguished and all, be somebody interesting. It’s disgusting - it is, it is. I don’t care what anybody says…
I’m not afraid to compete. It’s just the opposite. Don’t you see that? I’m afraid I will compete - that’s what scares me…
I’m ashamed of it. I’m sick of it. I’m sick of not having the courage to be an absolute nobody. I’m sick of myself and everybody else who wants to make some kind of a splash."

J.D Salinger, “Franny and Zooey.”
"The fact is always obvious much too late, but the most singular difference between happiness and joy is that happiness is a solid and joy a liquid."

J.D Salinger, “For Esmé - with Love and Squalor.”