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Quote by G.K. Chesterton

“But when fundamentals are doubted, as at present, we must try to recover the candour and wonder of the child; the unspoilt realism and objectivity of innocence. Or if we cannot do that, we must try at least to shake off the cloud of mere custom and see the thing as new, if only by seeing it as unnatural. Things that may well be familiar so long as familiarity breeds affection had much better become unfamiliar when familiarity breeds contempt. For in connection with things so great as are here considered, whatever our view of them, contempt must be a mistake. Indeed contempt must be an illusion. We must invoke the most wild and soaring sort of imagination; the imagination that can see what is there.”

Quote by G.K. Chesterton

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The Everlasting Man

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G.K. Chesterton

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“Let’s imagine that many years ago, way way back in history, someone observed a particular characteristic or oddity – maybe soldiers who claimed that their whole life passed before their eyes in times of extreme danger, or perhaps people who simply walked out on work they hated, or those who when they loved someone it was with every ounce of their being, and who never apologised for who they were. People who were different. People who the fairies and goblins recognised. And just imagine that the person observing these Scamps decided to do something about it, such as start a cult with a weird set of beliefs and practices that aimed at improving the genetic quality of the human race, breeding people with the desirable heritable characteristics in order to improve future generations. Just suppose this eugenically based cult was based on those with a childlike curiosity, on those who loved to be around people who lit them up, and only those with the most powerful experiences were chosen. Over a number of generations this careful and choosy breeding may have created a community who were without question so free that their very survival on earth was an act of insurgency. Think about it! What if you and I are simply a subdivision, if you like, of that groove of humanity?”

“In a few moments, pale yellow-green dots flashed all around them. The longer they waited, the more dots appeared, little stars twinkling just for them. "Are these fireflies?" Sanna nodded. "There are always more of them here than in any other part of the orchard. It's better than fireworks." "We don't have fireflies in California." Sanna looked around her and gently cupped her hands around a bug that had flown close to them. "Look inside." She held her hands out to Bass, who peeked between her fingers at the creature who flashed in her makeshift cage. "Can I try?" "I insist. We can't go back until you catch your first firefly." Sanna let hers go and it flew straight for Bass's white T-shirt. He gently cupped it and peeked inside. Watching his eyes widen in amazement, Sanna understood something she'd always missed. While kids were messy, distracting, and obviously a ton of work, they also opened a path to the past. Through Bass's wonder, she felt ten years old again- catching her first fireflies and discovering the magic of the Looms.”

“Zoiets? (door Ema Loer) Een peuter poept een spiraal in de wc, kijkt op — verwachtingsvol, alsof het een bloem is. Of een code. Of een oerknal in bruin. “Zoiets?” vraagt hij, alsof hij eeuwen van menselijke verwarring per ongeluk heeft afgevoerd. De moeder — deel tijd, deel terp, deel theezakje met geheugen — knikt. Maar traag. Alsof ze zich herinnert dat ze dit ooit ook vroeg bij haar eerste gedachte. De wc ruikt naar waarheden die zich niet laten ventileren. De spiraal dampend van betekenis en totaal betekenisloos. Want wat is het ook eigenlijk? Een glijbaan van vezels? Een dalai lama van de dikke darm? Een kosmische afdruk in de porseleinen tijd? “Zoiets,” zegt de moeder uiteindelijk hardop. Niet als antwoord, maar als mantra. Als verzachting voor alle keren dat iets groots begon met iets kleins dat niemand durfde erkennen omdat het stonk. En het kind spoelt zichzelf weg in lachen.”