The real test of whether a man “knows ball” is how he feels about Jane Austen. The ignorant think her just a writer of frivolous romances. Real ones know that she wrote with a level of social intelligence and psychological insight unmatched in English fiction.
I encourage using words like “whence” and “forthwith” in everyday life, not to sound pretentious but because language is fun and it adds a touch of surrealism and whimsy to the other person’s day. How dull life would be if everyone felt pressured to speak in the same basic way.
thebookmouse: whatarewedoingdude: Okay but did Newt go to regular highschool to finish his education after getting expelled? Or was he cool? https://t.co/APceyNwiA5
I believe you should always give a second chance to books you abandoned too early at different stages of your life. The writing never changes but your patience and context do.
A gentle reminder:
You don't have to read fast.
You don't have to read best-sellers.
You don't have to read longer books.
You don't have to have cute bookshelf.
If reading brings you peace, you're doing it right.
I am seriously considering not publishing my new release on Amazon in November. From what I can see humans that actually write their own books are being buried by AI on the platform.
Is Amazon still worth the effort?
I am only resolved to act in that manner, which will, in my own opinion, constitute my happiness, without reference to you, or to any person so wholly unconnected with me.
"Reading was like an addiction; I read while I ate, on the train, in bed until late at night, in school, where I'd keep the book hidden so I could read during class."
- Haruki Murakami https://t.co/KcSv4eCRoO
RT @SketchesbyBoze: we need to bring back words like wastrel, rogue, ruffian, ne’er-do-well. there is an epidemic of miscreants doing shenanigans and we have lost the vocabulary to describe them. @MerriamWebster@austendaily@janeaustenlit
RT @SketchesbyBoze: People ask “how could a single Victorian novelist produce 10 million books” and then you read the diaries of Victorian novelists and they’re like “spent the morning rolling around in cocaine and laudanum. drank a hundred cups of coffee and saw God.”