an eudæmonist


The 14th of February 2014, a Friday, at 22.11.

Generally: life's intrusions.

More specifically to do with: , , , , , , , , , .

Might be similar to:
fiction of ideas
grave & weatherworn
on my desk
28.06.02 – Friday

some flowers

Taking pictures around the house.

It’s the repeated, regular acts – the habits – that are, oddly, the most interesting thing. I wouldn’t have thought it.

For his own part, Adams inclined to think that neither chaos nor death was an object to him as a searcher of knowledge – neither would have vogue in America – neither would help him to a career. Both of them led him away from his objects, into an English dilettante museum of scraps, of which nothing but a wall-paper to unite them in any relation of sequence. Possibly English taste was one degree more fatal than English scholarship, but even this question was open to argument.

– Henry Adams (The Education of Henry Adams, p. 220)1

  1. This passage was found using the sortes sort of haphazard reading; it appealed to me because I have been reading too many detective stories.