Literary Birthday - 22 May
Happy Birthday, Arthur Conan Doyle, born 22 May 1859, died 7 July 1930
- It is a great thing to start life with a small number of really good books which are your very own.
- Anything is better than stagnation.
- When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.
- My mind rebels at stagnation. Give me problems, give me work, give me the most abstruse cryptogram, or the most intricate analysis, and I am in my own proper atmosphere. But I abhor the dull routine of existence. I crave for mental exaltation.
- It is a capital mistake to theorize before one has data.
- I have frequently gained my first real insight into the character of parents by studying their children.
- Mediocrity knows nothing higher than itself, but talent instantly recognizes genius.
- As a rule, said Holmes, the more bizarre a thing is the less mysterious it proves to be. It is your commonplace, featureless crimes which are really puzzling, just as a commonplace face is the most difficult to identify.
- Where there is no imagination there is no horror.
- The love of books is among the choicest gifts of the gods.
Arthur Conan Doyle was a Scottish physician and author who is best known for his Sherlock Holmes novels. He was a prolific writer who wrote fantasy and science fiction stories, plays, romances, poetry, non-fiction, and historical novels.
Day 123: Third Reich.
I am not the first person you loved.
You are not the first person I looked at
with a mouthful of forevers. We
have both known loss like the sharp edge
of a knife. We have both lived with lips
more scar tissue than skin. Our love came
unannounced in the middle of the night.
Our love came when we’d given up
on asking love to come. I think
that has to be part
of its miracle.
This is how we heal.
I will kiss you like forgiveness. You
will hold me like I’m hope. Our arms
will bandage and we will press promises
between us like flowers in a book.
I will write sonnets to the salt of sweat
on your skin. I will write novels to the scar
on your nose. I will write a dictionary
of all the words I have used trying
to describe the way it feels to have finally,
finally found you.
And I will not be afraid
of your scars.
I know sometimes
it’s still hard to let me see you
in all your cracked perfection,
but please know:
whether it’s the days you burn
more brilliant than the sun
or the nights you collapse into my lap
your body broken into a thousand questions,
you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
I will love you when you are a still day.
I will love you when you are a hurricane.