(no subject)
We were in bed together, watching the sun stream through the window. I was happy in a sad sort of way, because I knew this was never going to work.
Work. Not work. What do I mean?
If someone had told Mallory that he would climb Everest but die in an attempt, still he would have climbed it.
What does the end matter?
Here, now, is enough, isn’t it?
You had once asked me if I was afraid of death.
I said I was afraid of not living.
I don’t want to eke out my life like a resource in short supply. The only selfish life is a timid one. To hold back, to withdraw, to keep the best in reserve, both overvalues the self, and undervalues what the self is.
Here’s my life- I have to mine it, farm it, trade it, tenant it, and when the lease is up it cannot be renewed.
This is my chance. Take it.
--Jeanette Winterson, The Powerbook
(pg. 203)
Work. Not work. What do I mean?
If someone had told Mallory that he would climb Everest but die in an attempt, still he would have climbed it.
What does the end matter?
Here, now, is enough, isn’t it?
You had once asked me if I was afraid of death.
I said I was afraid of not living.
I don’t want to eke out my life like a resource in short supply. The only selfish life is a timid one. To hold back, to withdraw, to keep the best in reserve, both overvalues the self, and undervalues what the self is.
Here’s my life- I have to mine it, farm it, trade it, tenant it, and when the lease is up it cannot be renewed.
This is my chance. Take it.
--Jeanette Winterson, The Powerbook
(pg. 203)