“History-writing to-day has passed into an Alexandrian age, where criticism has overpowered creation. Faced by the mountainous heap of the minutiae of knowledge and awed by the watchful severity of his colleagues, the modern historian too often takes refuge in learned articles or narrowly specialized dissertations, small fortresses that are easy to defend from attack. His work can be of the highest value; but it is not an end in itself. I believe that the supreme duty of the historian is to write history, that is to say, to attempt to record in one sweeping sequence the greater events and movements that have swayed the destinies of man. The writer rash enough to make the attempt should not be criticized for his ambition, however much he may deserve censure for the inadequacy of his equipment or the inanity of his results.”
― A History of the Crusades, Volume 1: The First Crusade and the Foundations of the Kingdom of Jerusalem
― A History of the Crusades, Volume 1: The First Crusade and the Foundations of the Kingdom of Jerusalem
“I must be alone ten minutes in the morning and ten minutes in the evening. – Without a programme.”
― New Collected Poems
― New Collected Poems
“Tired of all who come with words, words but no language
I went to the snow-covered island.
The wild does not have words.
The unwritten pages spread themselves out in all directions!
I come across the marks of roe-deer's hooves in the snow.
Language, but no words.”
―
I went to the snow-covered island.
The wild does not have words.
The unwritten pages spread themselves out in all directions!
I come across the marks of roe-deer's hooves in the snow.
Language, but no words.”
―
“You know," said Port, and his voice sounded unreal, as voices are likely to do after a long pause in an utterly silent spot, "the sky here's very strange. I often have the sensation when I look at it that it's a solid thing up there, protecting us from what's behind."
Kit shuddered slightly as she said: "From behind?"
"Yes."
"But what is behind?" Her voice was very small.
"Nothing, I suppose. Just darkness. Absolute night.”
―
Kit shuddered slightly as she said: "From behind?"
"Yes."
"But what is behind?" Her voice was very small.
"Nothing, I suppose. Just darkness. Absolute night.”
―
“La vida es un viaje en paracaídas y no lo que tú quieres creer.
Vamos cayendo, cayendo de nuestro cenit a nuestro nadir y dejamos el aire manchado de sangre para que se envenenen los que vengan mañana a respirarlo.”
― Altazor
Vamos cayendo, cayendo de nuestro cenit a nuestro nadir y dejamos el aire manchado de sangre para que se envenenen los que vengan mañana a respirarlo.”
― Altazor
Tim’s 2024 Year in Books
Take a look at Tim’s Year in Books, including some fun facts about their reading.
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