At first glance, the key and the lock it fits may seem very different. Different in shape, different in function, different in design. The man who looks at them without knowledge of their true nature might think them opposites, for one is meant to open, and the other to keep closed. Yet, upon closer examination, he might that without one, the other becomes useless. The wise man then sees that both lock and key were created for the same purpose.

Thus Brandon Sanderson.

I have just returned from a party of which I was the life and soul; witty banter flowed from my lips, everyone laughed and admired me — but I came away, indeed the dash should be as long as the radius of the earth’s orbit ——————————————- wanting to shoot myself.

(more…)

The God who created worlds without number doesn’t seem too averse to grand ambition.
-Thus MC.

Lileks devoted his Aprill 22 National Review column to dodgeball. (more…)

Sadistic medieval regimes run by family crime syndicates. (more…)

All we who write put me in mind of sailors hastily making rafts upon doomed ships. (more…)

All find what they truly seek.

Thus C.S. Lewis, in The Last Battle.

In sorrow we must go, but not in despair. Behold! we are not bound forever to the circles of the world, and beyond them is more than memory.

-Thus Tolkien

Today in testimony meeting. A brother says, “I spent too much of my life trying to please God without offending the devil.”

Old books are sovereign antidotes to the idiocies of the age, both the idiocies of style and those of content.

Thus Valicella.

The greater the circle of our light, the greater the perimeter of our ignorance.

Places long unseen often loom larger in memory than they really are. That haystack on the old farm . . . that green lane . . . that high fence in the back yard and the tree we climbed to look over it – surely they were an important part of the universe. And the old house had yawning caves in the closets, and untold mysteries in that deep cellar and up in that beckoning yet forbidding attic. Why, that house couldn’t have been as small as now it seems.

I remember these things, and they were real, and and they are real now where I keep them in remembrance.

But we can’t go back.

(more…)

When the last and dreadful hour
This crumbling pageant shall devour,
The trumpet shall be heard on high,
The dead shall live, the living die,
And music shall untune the sky.

(more…)

“Parenthood is like emigrating to another country.”
-Thus Rod Dreher.

History’s father is the human heart.

Thus J.E. Dyer.