(by natasha wong)
“All this had to be accepted. Living did not mean one joy piled upon another. It was merely the hope for less pain, hope played like a playing card upon another hope, a wish for kindnesses and mercies to emerge like kings and queens in an unexpected twist in the game.”
— Lorrie Moore from her new short story, “Referential”, out in this week’s issue of The New Yorker.
Aww
I think she did love me, for a minute, for a second, for the time it takes to remember, for the time it takes to forget. We had twenty-eight days together and then I was gone.
The Stone Gods, Jeanette Winterson (via twobarsandabookshelf)
What a sad era when it is easier to smash an atom than a prejudice.
Godafoss, Iceland
A glacial torrent pours over a 40-foot-high ledge at Gođafoss, “waterfall of the gods.” After the Icelandic assembly adopted Christianity in 1000, its leader threw his pagan idols into the falls. The mossy island, notes geographer Guđrún Gísladóttir, “is protected from sheep.”
Photograph by Orsolya and Erlend Haarberg
