For those of you playing along at home, I also saw a catbird on Sunday.
Next spring, we should all start out with a bingo card or something.
“Landscape with the Ruins of the Castle of Egmond,” Jacob van Ruisdael, circa 1655
Oil on canvas.
Cover to Robert A. Heinlein’s “Stranger In a Strange Land,” art by James Warhola, 1987
Ace. The original painting, which is quite beautiful, can be found here.
Warhola is the nephew of Andy Warhol.
You heard it here first.
The woman I love is a bewitching poet. Mark my words — someday, when she no longer hides her light under a bushel, countless people will find themselves captivated by her talents.
She so naturally places her fingertips upon metaphors and similes that they seem like reflexive second languages to her. They punctuate her speech and writing effortlessly — and lyrically. If ever there were someone who was meant to be a poet, it’s her.
Sinclair sign in Winchester, Arkansas, photo by Infrogmation, 1989
Photo credit: Infrogmation, CC BY 2.5 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.5>, via Wikimedia Commons
“Something good will come out of all things yet …”
Cactuses suck.
They’re the hornets of the plant kingdom, people.
Zero Stars.
“Eekhoorn,” Henri Verstijnen, circa 1921
“Selfishness is not living as one wishes to live, it is asking others to live as one wishes to live.”
“Selfishness is not living as one wishes to live, it is asking others to live as one wishes to live. And unselfishness is letting other people’s lives alone, not interfering with them.
Selfishness always aims at creating around it an absolute uniformity of type. Unselfishness recognizes infinite variety of type as a delightful thing, accepts it, acquiesces in it, enjoys it.
It is not selfish to think for oneself. A man who does not think for himself does not think at all. It is grossly selfish to require of one’s neighbor that he should think in the same way, and hold the same opinions. Why should he? If he can think, he will probably think differently. If he cannot think, it is monstrous to require thought of any kind from him.
A red rose is not selfish because it wants to be a red rose. It would be horribly selfish if it wanted all the other flowers in the garden to be both red and roses.”
–Oscar Wilde, The Soul of Man & Prison Writings
Source: English Literature info on Facebook
Eric Robert Nolan, Author 