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“No one can tell your story so tell it yourself. No one can write your story so write it yourself.”

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“As he walked, his gaze drifted to Findlater’s Corner. The familiar landmark, with its ornate clock and proud stag’s head cresting the building, should have been a reassuring sight. But something was wrong. The clock—he couldn’t look away—was spinning wildly, its hands racing in a frenzied loop. A jolt of fear shot through him, visceral and inexplicable, freezing him mid-step. And then it happened. A blinding flash seared his vision, the shriek of brakes tearing through the air. A horn blared, deafening and close. Time splintered into jagged fragments, each moment stretching into eternity as he turned, his pulse pounding in his ears. The truck barrelled toward him, a monstrous wall of gleaming metal and unstoppable force. His breath hitched—too fast, too close. Panic clutched at him; his body frozen in place even as his mind screamed to move.”

FantasybooksFindlaterscornerGorstanchroniclesSwordandsorcery
Book:Findlater's Corner: book 1 of the Gorstan Chronicles
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“You cling so tightly to your purity, my lad! How terrified you are of sullying your hands. Well, go ahead then, stay pure! What good will it do, and why even bother coming here among us? Purity is a concept of fakirs and friars. But you, the intellectuals, the bourgeois anarchists, you invoke purity as your rationalization for doing nothing. Do nothing, don’t move, wrap your arms tight around your body, put on your gloves. As for myself, my hands are dirty. I have plunged my arms up to the elbows in excrement and blood. And what else should one do? Do you suppose that it is possible to govern innocently?”

Dirty Hands
Book:Les Mains sales
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“The surpluses will have to be expended somehow, and trust the oligarchs to find a way. Magnificent roads will be built. There will be great achievements in science, and especially in art. When the oligarchs have completely mastered the people, they will have time to spare for other things. They will become worshippers of beauty. They will become art-lovers. And under their direction and generously rewarded, will toil the artists. The result will be great art; for no longer, as up to yesterday, will the artists pander to the bourgeois taste of the middle class. It will be great art, I tell you, and wonder cities will arise that will make tawdry and cheap the cities of old time. And in these cities will the oligarchs dwell and worship beauty”

ArtScienceBeautyWorshipJack LondonOligarchAutocratiaIron Heel
Author:Jack London
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“Journey to the Heart of Beauty; do not be obsessed with mental and egoic ideas of form and perfection. Get your hands and feet dirty, dance in the rain, and rejoice in the Life that is Living Itself through the Uniqueness of You!”

FormPerfectionismUniqueness Of IndividualDirty HandsHeart Of BeautyLife Living ItselfRain Dance
Book:The Sun at Midnight: The Revealed Mysteries of the Ahlul Bayt Sufis
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