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Consider the Lobs...
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How PowerPoint Makes You Stupid by Franck Frommer
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Consider the Lobster and Other Essays by David Foster Wallace
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The User Illusion by Tor Nørretranders
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A New Kind of Science by Stephen Wolfram
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Free Fall by William Golding
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Free Fall by William Golding
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Darkness Visible by William Golding
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Kalki by Gore Vidal
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The New Media Invasion by John David Ebert
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Why Does the World Exist? by Jim Holt
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More of Tom's books…
Paul Bowles
“Because we don't know when we will die, we get to think of life as an inexhaustible well. Yet everything happens only a certain number of times, and a very small number really. How many more times will you remember a certain afternoon of your childhood, an afternoon that is so deeply a part of your being that you can't even conceive of your life without it? Perhaps four, five times more, perhaps not even that. How many more times will you watch the full moon rise? Perhaps 20. And yet it all seems limitless.”
Paul Bowles

Gene Wolfe
“And what of the dead? I own that I thought of myself, at times, almost as dead. Are they not locked below ground in chambers smaller than mine was, in their millions of millions? There is no category of human activity in which the dead do not outnumber the living many times over. Most beautiful children are dead. Most soldiers, most cowards. The fairest women and the most learned men – all are dead. Their bodies repose in caskets, in sarcophagi, beneath arches of rude stone, everywhere under the earth. Their spirits haunt our minds, ears pressed to the bones of our foreheads. Who can say how intently they listen as we speak, or for what word? ”
Gene Wolfe, The Citadel of the Autarch
tags: death

Emil Cioran
“Write books only if you are going to say in them the things you would never dare confide to anyone.”
Emil Cioran

Tom Stoppard
“Now for a handful of guilders I happen to have a private and uncut performance of the rape of the Sabine Women - or rather woman, or rather Alfred -Get your skirt on Alfred!”
Tom Stoppard, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead

Comte de Lautréamont
“After some hours, the dogs, exhausted by running round, almost dead, their tongues hanging out, set upon one another and, not knowing what they are doing, tear one another into thousands of pieces with incredible rapidity. Yet they do not do this out of cruelty.

One day, a glazed look in her eyes, my mother said to me: ‘When you are in bed and you hear the barking of the dogs in the countryside, hide beneath your blanket, but do not deride what they do: they have an insatiable thirst for the infinite, as you, and I, and all other pale, long-faced human beings do.’

Since that time, I have respected the dead woman’s wish. Like those dogs I feel the need for the infinite. I cannot, cannot satisfy this need. I am the son of a man and a woman, from what I have been told.

This astonishes me…I believed I was something more.”
Comte de Lautréamont, Les Chants de Maldoror

Marcel
314 books | 4,301 friends

Shawn
787 books | 18 friends




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