4
" The hall is a place to wait in, a place from which to try the various doors, not a place to live in. For that purpose the worst of the rooms (whichever that may be) is, I think, preferable. It is true that some people may find they have to wait in the hall for a considerable time, while others feel certain almost at once which door they must knock at. I do not know why there is this difference, but I am sure God keeps no one waiting unless He sees that it is good for him to wait. When you do get into your room you will find that the long wait has done you some kind of good which you would not have had otherwise. But you must regard it as waiting, not as camping. You must keep on praying for light; and, of course, even in the hall, you must begin trying to obey the rules which are common to the whole house. And above all you must be asking which door is the true one; not which pleases you best by its paint and panelling. In plain language, the question should never be: 'Do I like that kind of service?' but 'Are these doctrines true: is holiness here? Does my conscience move me towards this? Is my reluctance to knock at this door due to my pride, or my mere taste, or my personal dislike of this particular door-keeper?'
When you have reached your own room, be kind to those who have chosen different doors and to those who are still in the hall. If they are wrong they need your prayers all the more; and if there are your enemies, then you are under orders to pray for them. That is one of the rules common to the whole house. "
― C.S. Lewis
7
" Whatever it is," I said, " the point is moot because as long as I'm on these pills, I can't make contact to ask." Derek ... snapped, " Then you need to stop taking the pills." Love to. If I could. But after what happened last night, they're giving me urine tests now." Ugh. That's harsh." Simon went quiet, then snapped his fingers.Hey, I've got an idea. It's kinda gross, but what if you take the pills, crush them and mix them with your, you know, urine." Derek stared at him.What?" You did pass chem last year, didn't you?" Simon flipped him the finger. " Okay, genius, what's your idea?" I'll think about it. ..." ***Here," Derek whispered, pressing an empty Mason jar into my hand. He'd pulled me aside after class and we were now standing at the base of the boy's staircase. " Take this up to your room and hide it." It's a ... jar." He grunted, exasperated that I was so dense I failed to see the critical importance of hiding an empty Mason jar in my room.It's for your urine." My what?" He rolled his eyes, a growl-like sound sliding through his teeth ashe leaned down, closer to my ear. " Urine. Pee. Whatever. For the testing." I lifted the jar to eye level. " I think they'll give me somethingsmaller." ...You took your meds today, right?" he whispered.I nodded.Then use this jar to save it." Save . . . ?" Your urine. If you give them some of today's tomorrow, it'll seem like you're still taking your meds." You want me to . . . dole it out? Into specimen jars?" Got a better idea?" Um, no, but ..." I lifted the jar and stared into it.Oh, for God's sake. Save your piss. Don't save your piss. It's all the same to me." Simon peeked around the corner, brows lifted. " I was going to ask what you guys were doing, but hearing that, I think I'll pass. "
8
" Politicians in our times feed their clichés to television, where even those who wish to disagree repeat them. Television purports to challenge political language by conveying images, but the succession from one frame to another can hinder a sense of resolution. Everything happens fast, but nothing actually happens. Each story on televised news is ”breaking” until it is displaced by the next one. So we are hit by wave upon wave but never see the ocean.
The effort to define the shape and significance of events requires words and concepts that elude us when we are entranced by visual stimuli. Watching televised news is sometimes little more than looking at someone who is also looking at a picture. We take this collective trance to be normal. We have slowly fallen into it.
More than half a century ago, the classic novels of totalitarianism warned of the domination of screens, the suppression of books, the narrowing of vocabularies, and the associated difficulties of thought. In Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451, published in 1953, firemen find and burn books while most citizens watch interactive television. In George Orwell’s 1984, published in 1949, books are banned and television is two-way, allowing the government to observe citizens at all times. In 1984, the language of visual media is highly constrained, to starve the public of the concepts needed to think about the present, remember the past, and consider the future. One of the regime’s projects is to limit the language further by eliminating ever more words with each edition of the official dictionary.
Staring at screens is perhaps unavoidable, but the two-dimensional world makes little sense unless we can draw upon a mental armory that we have developed somewhere else. When we repeat the same words and phrases that appear in the daily media, we accept the absence of a larger framework. To have such a framework requires more concepts, and having more concepts requires reading. So get the screens out of your room and surround yourself with books. The characters in Orwell’s and Bradbury’s books could not do this—but we still can. "
― Timothy Snyder , On Tyranny: Twenty Lessons from the Twentieth Century
10
" Writing is hard. Writing that is good, writing that is powerful enough to evoke a change or an authentic emotion or even just an idea in another human being is about as mysterious as an alchemical recipe, but there are a few known ingredients. Craft? Yes, absolutely. Devotion? A load - yes! Humility? Not vital, I suppose, but all my favorites include at least a dash. Before those can be added to the cauldron though, you must have a base of Honesty. Honesty is difficult to find in public spaces these days (and getting harder every goddamn day) but if you're quiet, and patient, you can usually find some hidden in your room somewhere. (It helps to turn off the lights, for some reason.) Problem is, Honesty is invariably bound to Vulnerability and the only thing that cuts the bitterness of Vulnerability is Courage. And Courage?
Well. Courage is the hardest thing of all. "
― , The Secret Loves of Geek Girls
15
" Something tells me that you sneak bars up to your room a lot. In fact, you probably have a whole little shoebox dedicated to them.”
“Wrong.”
“I don’t think I am. Tell the truth, Emery. Do you hoard chocolate bars?”
“Eww! Hoarding makes it sound gross. It’s not like I collect them or anything. I just keep a few on hand when the craving hits.”
“And how often is that?”
He’s pushing me. It’s evident by the grin on his face, but there’s something about the way his eyes are lighting up, the first time they’ve done it since he got here today, that makes me wanna answer him just to keep it going.
I like the way he is right now. It’s much better than the tense and angry way he was before.
“Every single day.” I admit and along with the smile comes a thick rumble of laughter.
“So, you admit you have a problem. That’s the first step. Now that you’ve admitted it, I can properly treat you.”
“And how do you plan on doing that?”
“You solemnly swear never to take home and hide another chocolate bar, and I’ll make sure that every day, you have your daily dose of it. "
― Melyssa Winchester , The Space In Between
16
" LET’S GO BACK HOMEI can't think about you,Without smiling.What I wouldn’t give,To go back there,Take you in my arms,Kiss you, And tell you," I still love you." It's been three decades now,And still your smile's with me,Your wave goodbye, The love in your eyes, And everything else you gave me,Before that highway fog swept in,And stole your spirit away.Oh- to return by your side again, Fish beside the Pleasant Hill Dam,Hike through the Mayer's woods, Hang out on your big hill,Sleep naked in your twin bed,Fill your room with laughter- And marijuana smoke.You returned home-And I traveled on down the road,Found new loves,Safely took them under my wing,And deeply into my heart.But you know, as I do-This wasn’t always possible.I didn’t always have the fire- The courage to stand tall,The joy to expand, Nor the love to give deeply.These were all your gifts--To me.Someday-When I close my eyes for good,And cry out- " Lord- forgive me for I have sinned-" I'll joyously return by your side,Take you into my arms, Kiss you, And tell you," I still love you. "
