Be with those who help your being. Don’t sit with indifferent people, whose breath comes cold out of their mouths. Not these visible forms, your work is deeper.

• Rumi 📚 💬

That there was such a house in the world, lit and open and empty, became a story in those days; there were other stories, people were in motion, stories were all they cared to hear, stories were all they believed in, life had got that hard. The story of the house all lit, the house of four floors, seven chimneys, three hundred and sixty five stairs, fifty-two doors, traveled far; they were all travelers then. It met another story, a story about a world elsewhere, and a family whose names many knew, whose house had been large, and populous with griefs and happinesses that had once seemed endless, but had ended, or had stopped; and to those many who still dreamed of that family as often as their own, the two stories seemed one. The house could be found. In spring the basement lights went out, and one in the music room.

People in motion; stories starting in a dream, and spoken by unwise actors into wanting ears, then ceasing; the story turning back to dream, and then haunting the day, told and retold. People knew there was a house made of time, and many set out to find it.

• from Little, Big by John Crowley 📚 💬

Currently reading: Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Seas by Jules Verne 📚

Currently reading: The Art of Communicating by Thich Nhat Hanh 📚

Finished reading: The Blue Fox by Sjón 📚

George Brown School of Engineering at Rice University

Finished reading: Queen of Angels by Greg Bear 📚

A great tree on the Rice campus today

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Currently reading: Queen of Angels by Greg Bear 📚

Finished reading: The Kaiju Preservation Society by John Scalzi 📚

Currently reading: Cloud Cuckoo Land by Anthony Doerr 📚

Finished reading: The Memory Police by Yoko Ogawa 📚

Finished reading: A Thousand Brains by Jeff Hawkins 📚

Currently reading: The Memory Police by Yoko Ogawa 📚

Currently reading: The Kaiju Preservation Society by John Scalzi 📚

Finished reading: Mickey7 by Edward Ashton 📚

Come from his burial, none knew where but she, Daily Alice came among them like daybreak, her tears like day-odorous dew. They swallowed tears and wonder before her presence, and made to leave; but no one would say later that she hadn’t smiled for them, and made them glad with her blessing, as they parted. They sighed, some yawned, they took hands; they took themselves by twos and threes away to where she sent them, to rocks, fields, streams and woods, to the four corners of the earth, their kingdom new-made.

Then Alice walked alone there, by where the moist ground was marked with the dark circle of their dance, her skirts trailing damp in the sparkling grasses. She thought that if she could she might take away this summer day, this one day, for him; but he wouldn’t have liked her to do that and she could not do it anyway. So instead she would make it, which she could do, this her anniversary day, a day of such perfect brilliance, a morning so new, an afternoon so endless, that the whole world would remember it ever after.

• excerpt from Little, Big by John Crowley 📚 💬

Finished reading: The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman 📚

Currently reading: Mickey7 by Edward Ashton 📚