Fondness
I’m quite fond of quotes. I like how the quotes that we preserve are the ones that sound pretty and flow well and generally mean something. (This is not, by any means, to say that I don’t enjoy fun or silly quotes.) I think the way people have managed to string things together is… well, fun, even when they’re sad or too deep to bring any real contentment or happiness.
I think it’s very possible that I grew to like words, and writing, so much because of quotes. My mother (who has singlehandedly read more of my writing than any other person in the world) likes to remind me that sometimes I like them a little too much—though, in my defense, she usually only mentions this when she’s helping me edit essays.
One of my favorite quotes was discovered relatively recently, in the middle of a gorgeous book called Anil’s Ghost, by Micheal Ondaatje: “One can die from private woes as easily as from public ones.”
Truthfully, I don’t even really understand what it means. I’m pretty sure that I don’t, anyway. I had always thought it would be easier to die from “private woes” than “public ones.”
But isn’t it pretty? I found it in the middle of a dull paragraph, even—most of the book is full of an immense and vibrant sense of emotion, but the one paragraph where my attention began to wander held the most beautiful sentence I’d heard in months, maybe years.
I was astounded, of course. I had to reread it several times before I could overcome my awe enough to procede. (I would have liked to stop reading for a while and let it marinate, but reading books for classes mean that there is, unfortunately, a deadline that doesn’t allow for awe the way I would really like.) And then I pulled out a lavender post-it note, wrote it down, and taped it to the wall next to my desk. It gives me great pleasure to look over at it while I’m working. :)
