"When you open a book," the sentimental library posters said, "anything can happen." This was so. A book of fiction was a bomb. It was a land mine you wanted to go off. You wanted it to blow your whole day. Unfortunately, hundreds of thousands of books were duds. They had been rusting out of everyone's way for so long that they no longer worked. There was no way to distinguish the duds from the live mines except to throw yourself at them headlong, one by one. --Annie Dillard, An American Childhood

I would like to live to be a hunded because loving and being loved are so good and there are so many books; but were I to learn now that I had only a week left, I would finish today's spell of writing, have the cup of coffee that I crave and go on with the one book I'm reading. --John Tittensor, Year One: A Record

April 8, 2011

Funny Business: Conversations with Writers of Comedy

by Daniel Handler, edited by Leonard S. Marcus (via First Milk)

The primary advantage of a large vocabulary when you're young is entirely different from the primary advantage of a large vocabulary when you're an adult. When you're an adult it's so you can describe things with precision, and when you're a child it's mostly so that you can insult people without their knowing it or otherwise baffle them. A child with a large vocabulary is a trusted child. The idea is that a bookworm is not the kind of child who would ever get into any trouble. If, however, you are the kind of bookworm that I was, and you're reading Confessions of an Opium Eater, you are probably somewhat likelier to get into trouble than a child who knows fewer words.

No comments:

Post a Comment