Wednesday, March 19, 2014

Currie's Gratitude 19 March 2014

At one magical instant in your early childhood, the page of a book—that string of confused, alien ciphers—shivered into meaning. Words spoke to you, gave up their secrets; at that moment, whole universes opened. You became, irrevocably, a reader.  [Alberto Manguel, A History of Reading]

Words have always been integral to me. As essential as breathing. Words heal me. Words shape me. And only words can open me wide and big as the sky. Whether reading them or writing them, words give me everything.

In the library I felt better, words you could trust and look at till you understood them, they couldn't change half way through a sentence like people, so it was easier to spot a lie.  [Jeanette Winterson, Oranges are Not the Only Fruit]

There is much to BE said for writing things down…and NOT. It’s a risk, for sure, to write words that shall ever after BE mine. But how amazing that I can live on forever BEcause I took that risk.

You can only fit so many words in a postcard, only so many in a phone call, only so many into space before you forget that words are sometimes used for things other than filling emptiness. [Sarah Kay]

This is both an important and overlooked concept; one I won’t forget.

I love you, Currie

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