Luck

I wish you bad luck — again, from time to time — so that you will be conscious of the role of chance in life,” Roberts said. “And understand that your success is not completely deserved, and that the failure of others is not completely deserved, either.

– Justice John Roberts, Chief Justice, Supreme Court of The United States of America

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Cultural appropriation

the key issue when you write about cultures that are distant from your own: be sympathetic to their worldview, even if you don’t understand it fully, which you never will. Don’t judge, don’t try to compare it with your own value-system. It is as the French philosopher Emmanual Levinas said: to relate to the Other without reducing it to the same. Respect without understanding; because understanding, too, is a kind of intellectual violence, an act of control.

– Saikat Majumdar

https://scroll.in/article/842210/why-are-writers-and-critics-around-the-world-worrying-about-or-ignoring-cultural-appropriation

Moral Certainty

There is no such thing as moral certainty. That is the only certain thing about morality.

Grace

Even in our sleep, pain which cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart until, in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom through the awful grace of God.

– Robert F. Kennedy announcing the assassination of Martin Luther King.

Nearby

He stood by the door, blankly staring at his neighbours, who were best friends of his parents’. He had done just as he was asked – zip it up and go back. 

‘Where were you?’ asked his mom as he cam into the house. ‘I was just outside, mom’, he lied, first time he could think of. 

His parents had invited them for dinner that evening. He could feel the inertia of their smiling attention on him from the far end of the table. The smiles on their faces were oppressive. He opened his mouth, thought for a moment but closed it again. He did not risk a glance towards them. He’d break, he thought. 

Even the smallest bites didn’t go down his stomach. He had to close his eyes and push down the bites with sips of water. Afterwards, he thew up all he had had. That night he felt a rush of pain between his legs. He ran into the washroom and emptied his bladder. It was as if life had been leached out of him. 

But the pain didn’t stop. It never did. 

Smoke

Smoke… is a suspension of particles, billions of drifting carbon molecules. Bits of living rooms, cafes, trees. People. 

– Anthony Doerr, All The Light We Cannot See

Image Source – Pinterest 

Where do we go when we die? 

Do we rise on a tree gnawing at its tusk?
Or we fall in the ocean floating on the bed? 

Do we blossom on weak stems with the flow of dusk?
Or we wilt from tire of the road ahead? 

Do we silt into bricks in that envious skyscraper?
Or we fade into fog leaving another lost lover? 

Do we fly onto walls, staring at grief?
Or we land into bars to get some relief? 

Do we refresh ourselves and come back?
Or we get removed from the unfortunate pack?