Quality Quotable

I found the quote I thought I was looking for in my last post!

It’s close, but not quite, what Stephen King wrote in Shawshank Redemption.

One of my favorite books of all time is Robert Heinlein’s Time Enough for Love.

It’s a science fiction novel about a man named Lazarus Long, spanning centuries. (Yes, he’s long-lived, that’s part the book’s aesthetic.)

The quote is in the Chapter The Tale of the Adopted Daughter, which, frankly, makes me sob reading it, every time. I know it’s coming, I’ve read this book a dozen times, easily, but I can’t help myself.

The quote reads:

Here is life or here is dying; only sin is lack of trying. Grab your picks and grab your shovels; dig latrines and build your hovels – next year better, next year stronger, next year’s furrows that much longer. Learn to grow it, learn to eat it. You can’t buy it, learn to make it! How’d you know until you’ve tried it? Try again and keep on trying —

So many quotables in this book. Some I dislike, for – reasons – but others keep bringing me back, just to read again.

Certainly the game is rigged. Don’t let that stop you; if you don’t bet, you can’t win.

Always listen to experts. They’ll tell you what can’t be done, and why. Then do it.

Small change can often be found under seat cushions.

It’s amazing how much “mature wisdom” resembles being too tired.

Your enemy is never a villain in his own eyes. Keep this in mind; it may offer a way to make him your friend. If not, you can kill him without hate – and quickly.

The more you love, the more you can love – and the more intensely you love. Nor is there a limit on how many you can love. If a person has time enough, he could love all of the majority who are decent and just.

And…

One I’ve used a million times, often when wistful, or regretful about the past… I remind myself:

When the ship lifts, all bills are paid. No regrets.

The book has hundreds more stunning quotes, some even separated out into their own “Notebook” chapters.

I.. Just wish the things in this book were possible.

I see so many correlating instances with the beginnings of this story, and our present timeline.

May the Great Diaspora happen soon.

Humanity needs the humbling experience of space.

Guilty? Pleasure

Weekends are usually quiet for me, anymore. I don’t go out, unless it’s to Hellmart for groceries, & I don’t spend a lot of time on the phone. 

Well, not talking to others, anyway.

I did spend a lot of time with my phone this weekend…reading.

I’ve become quite addicted to my Kindle app.

*Gasp! Horror! Blasphemy!*

No, seriously.

I feel as though I’ve let my book-loving nerdy side down by reading books on my phone.

But I can’t stop. 

I think I burned up my battery 10 times this weekend, tearing through a whole series of digital books.

Yes, I still love read honest-to-goddess real paper books. 

But, I’m now paying for Kindle Unlimited….

And I’m not ashamed.

Well… Not really.

(For you, Youngerdaughter)

I Don’t Think That’s What They Meant

I’ve always known that reading to my kids was good for them.

Expanding their horizons, showing them different worlds, different people, cultures, ideas, crammed in the pages of a bound book.

And there are books on all sorts of topics for kids now.

Books just for the pleasure of reading an entertaining story, books for education.

There are books for potty-training, for bed-time, for learning to deal with siblings, leaning to cope with the death of a pet, learning how to be better at this or that, for learning everything from alphabets to zydeco music playing.

I know that reading – reading almost anything – broadens anyone’s mind, not just a child’s.

But – the other night, I added a twist.

OnlySon is 16.  And he and I both understand that he’s far more esoterically knowledgeable than most people think.  We talk to each other in a manner most wouldn’t expect a parent to talk to a 16 yr. old.

I talk to him more as I would another adult.  Well, at least, another adult who just so happens to be my 16 yr. old child.  There are still some subjects we both agree are not appropriate, not – ugh – comfortable for either of us.  And our agreement works.

He can handle it – and he respects me for respecting that about him.

So, the other night, I was reading a new book I’d picked up at the book store – Augusten Burrough’s “Magical Thinking”.

It’s a hilarious set of stories about things that have happened to him in his own life.  And he freely admits that he’s “emotionally damaged goods”, so, even while I can feel bad about the fucked up things he’s had to experience growing up, and since, I can laugh along with him as he laughs at himself.

I sat and chuckled, snickered, and gut-busted laughed for 2 hours straight after bringing this home and immediately sitting down to enjoy it.

Of course, OnlySon had to know what was so funny.

So – I read a chapter – out loud – to him.

All about how Augusten had found a “rat/thing” in his bathroom, and proceeded to destroy it, then to go on to practically destroy his bathroom in order to rid himself of the taint of the rat/thing’s infestation of his life.

It’s funnier in the book.

And, after hearing the story, my son proceeded to tell me about a story he’d read – about a man who’d chugged half a soda, only to find a ground up frog in the can…..

The things we do to one another for the sake of a good story. *urp*

Later than night, I was standing in the bathroom, contemplating the meaning of life (brushing my teeth, actually, but close enough), when I heard EldestDaughter downstairs.  The cadence and rhythm of her voice told me she was reading a new story to the ToddlerTornado.

And I was struck by the coincidence, and the slight difference of the subject matter we’d each chosen to read to our sons.

At least… well, leaning out of the bathroom, I was pretty sure my new book was still sitting by my chair.

I don’t think that’s what they meant when the “experts” said “Read to Your Children”.