Sunday, January 13, 2008

finitude, the gardener

I’m looking at a humongous library of unread tomes (and the publishing world endlessly flowers new titles, of course—wonderful world), so I’m frustrated by the impossibility of absorbing all of it at once (or keeping up with all that draws me).

“The Inner Child and magical thinking echo in ambition,’ he confessed, as if one might absorb it all before writing further?