Sunday, July 19, 2009
More from Logan Pearsall Smith
Pp. 68-69 (Consolation, in Trivia, Book II):
The other day, depressed on the Underground, I tried to cheer myself by thinking over the joys of our human lot. But there wasn't one of them for which I seemed to care a buttonnot Wine, nor Fame, nor Friendship, nor Eating, nor Making Love, nor the Consciousness of Virtue. Was it worth while then going way up in a lift into a world that had nothing less trite to offer?P. 177 (from Myself, in Afterthoughts):
Then I thought of readingthe nice and subtle happiness of reading. This was enough, this joy not dulled by Age, this polite and unpunishable vice, this selfish, serene, life-long intoxication.
People say that life is the thing, but I prefer reading.P. 192 (from Last Words):
Give me a bed and a book and I'm happy.