Some might say sleet…
All is well with me. The rain doesn’t reach me, my room is well heated, what more can one ask for? There’s no shortage of work, either. — Paul Klee
Some might say sleet…
All is well with me. The rain doesn’t reach me, my room is well heated, what more can one ask for? There’s no shortage of work, either. — Paul Klee
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Find what feels true. You’ll write a lot, and most of it will be bullshit. You need the bullshit if you want to find the truth. Sort through the bullshit until you learn to recognize the truth, by feel, not by any logical criteria. The truth looks remarkably like bullshit.


Love this one.