littledallilasbookshelf:

Mount Stuart House, Isle of Bute, Scotland

littledallilasbookshelf:

Mount Stuart House, Isle of Bute, Scotland

 
 
 
Our educational system is almost designed to foster a fixed mind-set. Think about how a typical English class works: You read a “great work” by a famous author, discussing what the messages are, and how the author uses language, structure, and imagery to convey them. You memorize particularly pithy quotes to be regurgitated on the exam, and perhaps later on second dates. Students are rarely encouraged to peek at early drafts of those works. All they see is the final product, lovingly polished by both writer and editor to a very high shine. When the teacher asks “What is the author saying here?” no one ever suggests that the answer might be “He didn’t quite know” or “That sentence was part of a key scene in an earlier draft, and he forgot to take it out in revision.”

macrolit:

macrolit:

To the Lighthouse, Virginia Woolf

I used to think the worst thing in life was to end up all alone. It’s not. The worst thing in life is to end up with people who make you feel all alone.
— Robin Williams (via dishevelment)

http://awritersruminations.tumblr.com/post/94489071521/theyre-not-that-different-from-you-are-they →

awritersruminations:

They’re not that different from you, are they? Same haircuts. Full of hormones, just like you. Invincible, just like you feel. The world is their oyster. They believe they’re destined for great things, just like many of you, their eyes are full of hope, just like you. Did they wait until it was too late to make from their lives even one iota of what they were capable? Because, you see gentlemen, these boys are now fertilizing daffodils. But if you listen real close, you can hear them whisper their legacy to you. Go on, lean in. Listen, you hear it? —Carpe— hear it?— Carpe, carpe diem, seize the day boys, make your lives extraordinary.

awritersruminations:

Robin Williams in Dead Poets Society (1989) (via zimas)

I heard joke once: Man goes to doctor. Says he’s depressed, life is harsh and cruel. Says he feels all alone in threatening world. Doctor says, “Treatment is simple. The great clown Pagliacci is in town. Go see him. That should pick you up.” Man bursts into tears. “But doctor,” he says, “I am Pagliacci.” Good joke. Everybody laugh. Roll on snare drum. Curtains.
— Rorschach; Watchmen. (via shithowdy)

wallflowerbloom:

No matter what anybody tells you, words and ideas can change the world.

We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for.

(Dead Poets Society, 1989)

 Picnick (by H o l u n d e r)

Picnick (by H o l u n d e r)

 endlesslibraries:

(via x)
 awritersruminations:

Written by Khaled Juma (via Rabih Alameddine)
 teachingliteracy:

temporaryisforever