"A peculiar anthologic maze, an amusing literary chaos, a farrago of quotations, a mere olla podrida of quaintness, a pot pourri of pleasant delites, a florilegium of elegant extracts, a tangled fardel of old-world flowers of thought, a faggot of odd fancies, quips, facetiae, loosely tied" (Holbrook Jackson, Anatomy of Bibliomania) by a "laudator temporis acti," a "praiser of time past" (Horace, Ars Poetica 173).
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Wednesday, March 07, 2018
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Thomas Szasz (1920-2012), The Second Sin (Garden City: Anchor Press, 1973), p. 49:
People often say that this or that person has not yet found himself. But the self is not something one finds; it is something one creates.