I’m nearing the end of Anna Karenina – I’ve got less than 100 pages to go – and it saddens me so much to know that I must come to the end of this novel that has not only kept me company but comforted me and taught me various things over the last few months. I know I can always just re-read it, and I probably will one day, but there are so many other books I want to read that I’m sure it will be a very, very long time before I do.
The other day when I was reading (probably on the bus on the way to work), I paused for a moment, and looked at the book in my hands – I had the book open, but I was looking at the actual book, not the words on its pages. It brought a sad smile to my face to see how few pages remained in my right hand, while my left hand held all the chapters I’d already read. It was a bittersweet feeling.
I think I mentioned somewhere in a previous post that I wanted to write separate posts for each of the main characters (or, I suppose, for the ones I consider to be main characters) but I wasn’t sure if I would follow through with that idea. I’m still not sure if I will, but, at the very least, I wanted to write one for Levin – Konstantin Dmitrich Levin. [If you choose to read on, please note that there will be spoilers in this post.] Continue reading
You probably all know the expression “no use crying over spilt milk” or some variation of it, right? Well, whenever I hear it, I think of this one time in my childhood when I actually did cry over spilt milk – not just figuratively speaking, but literal spilt milk and literal crying.
I was quite young at the time (maybe six? maybe four?) and it would’ve been at home one day, in the kitchen. I really don’t remember the circumstances surrounding it, but I remember there was milk spilt, and for some reason I was really upset and cried.
It’s been a while since I did a Meditations post. You could be forgiven for thinking that I’d forgotten or finished with them (you could also be forgiven for forgetting about them altogether). But, no, the book still sits prominently on my desk, and I still flip through it from time to time. Various passages also flit around my mind every so often, and I try to remind myself of the things that I learnt from these writings of Marcus Aurelius.
When I read F. Scott Fitzgerald’s Tender is the Night last year, I hadn’t expected that it would have such a long-lasting impact on me.
Since early last year some time (?) I’ve been keeping a book of quotes. It’s just a random notebook in which I record quotes from books and other places – quotes that made me pause, or that lingered in my mind long after I’d turned the page. Perhaps they are particularly well-worded or poetic, but the main reason I record them is because I can relate and can see the truth in them.
All through my childhood and school years, I did quite well academically. I liked school (mostly), I enjoyed learning new things, and I relished any opportunity to show that I was a bright and capable student (except I was never that kid who put their hand up to answer questions in class).
After finishing high school, I went straight into university, and did my Pharmacy degree. Although there was a bit of an adjustment phase to this new learning structure, I did enjoy university too. There was something of a thrill in being presented with this new level of intellectual challenge.
A lot of lunchtime conversations at work revolve around food. The other day, we happened to be talking about corn, and whether it was better to use canned corn or frozen corn. Unless you really like corn, this might seem like it’s going to be a boring post, but it’s actually not about corn at all. It’s about plastic.