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Winterdragon

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Shakespeare's Son...
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Gödel, Escher, Ba...
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The Mammoth Hunters
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Reading for the 2nd time
read in January 2002
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Douglas Adams
“In the past the whales had been able to sing to each other across whole oceans, even from one ocean to another because sound travels such huge distances underwater. But now, again because of the way in which sound travels, there is no part of the ocean that is not constantly jangling with the hubbub of ships’ motors, through which it is now virtually impossible for the whales to hear each other’s songs or messages.

So fucking what, is pretty much the way that people tend to view this problem, and understandably so, thought Dirk. After all, who wants to hear a bunch of fat fish, oh all right, mammals, burping at each other?

But for a moment Dirk had a sense of infinite loss and sadness that somewhere amongst the frenzy of information noise that daily rattled the lives of men he thought he might have heard a few notes that denoted the movements of gods.”
Douglas Adams, The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul

Douglas Adams
“It’s easy to think that as a result of the extinction of the dodo, we are now sadder and wiser, but there’s a lot of evidence to suggest that we are merely sadder and better informed.”
Douglas Adams, Last Chance to See

Clive Barker
“Sung to the tune of O Christmas Tree

O woe is me,
O woe is me,
I used to have a hamster tree,
But it was eaten by a newt,
And now I have no cuddly fruit,
O woe is me,
O woe is me,
I used to have a hamster tree!”
Clive Barker, Abarat

Ray Bradbury
“You must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you.”
Ray Bradbury, Zen in the Art of Writing: Releasing the Creative Genius Within You

Edmond Rostand
“...But...to sing,
to dream, to smile, to walk, to be alone, be free,
with a voice that stirs and an eye that still can see!
To cock your hat to one side, when you please
at a yes, a no, to fight, or- make poetry!
To work without a thought of fame or fortune,
on that journey, that you dream of, to the moon!
Never to write a line that's not your own...”
Edmond Rostand, Cyrano de Bergerac

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