Each reader is but one chapter in the life of a book, and unless he passes his knowledge onto others, it is as if he condemned the book to be buried alive.
I love this. Readers have a responsibility to the text that extends beyond merely reading it; and a book fights for air unless its readers fight to save it.
It is right that the murder of many people be mourned and lamented.
Even the best weapon is an unhappy tool.
What do they do, the singers, tale-writers, dancers, painters, shapers, makers?
Five principles for embracing uncertainty.
Where to give all your precious fucks.
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subscribeOn Always Coming Home and Orality and Literacy
On Virtue Hoarders and The Other Side of Empathy
On The Language of the Night and The Real World of Technology
On The Tombs of Atuan
On Two Cheers for Anarchism
by Ursula K. Le Guin
by Catherine Liu
by Geoff Ryman
by Ursula K. Le Guin
by China Miéville