We have many books for sale on half.com
http://shops.half.ebay.com/lazulibear_W0QQmZbooks
http://shops.half.ebay.com/house-silverwood_W0QQsellerZhouseQ5fsilverwoodQQmZbooks
19 November 2009
27 October 2009
Work Quotes
AMBITION
“It was true that I didn’t have much ambition, but there ought to be a place for people without ambition, I mean a better
place than the one usually reserved. How in the hell could a man enjoy being awakened at 6:30 a.m. by an alarm clock, leap
out of bed, dress, force-feed, shit, piss, brush teeth and hair, and fight traffic to get to a place where essentially you
made lots of money for somebody else and were asked to be grateful for the opportunity to do so?”
—Charles Bukowski, Factotum, Black Sparrow Press, 1975
EIGHT HOURS
"One of the saddest things is that the only thing that a man can do for eight hours a day, day after day, is work. You can't
eat eight hours a day nor drink for eight hours a day nor make love for eight hours—all you can do for eight hours is work.
Which is the reason why man makes himself and everybody else so miserable and unhappy."
—William Faulkner, interview in Writers at Work, 1958
MENTAL DERANGEMENT
"Industrial man—a sentient reciprocating engine having a fluctuating output, coupled to an iron wheel revolving with uniform
velocity. And then we wonder why this should be the golden age of revolution and mental derangement."
—Aldous Huxley, Time Must Have a Stop, 1944
COMPOST
"But men labor under a mistake. The better part of the man is soon ploughed into the soil for compost. By a seeming fate,
commonly called necessity, they are employed, as it says in the old book, laying up treasures which moth and rust will
corrupt and thieves break through and steal. It is a fool's life, as they will find when they get to the end of it, if not
before."
—Henry David Thoreau, Walden, 1854
“It was true that I didn’t have much ambition, but there ought to be a place for people without ambition, I mean a better
place than the one usually reserved. How in the hell could a man enjoy being awakened at 6:30 a.m. by an alarm clock, leap
out of bed, dress, force-feed, shit, piss, brush teeth and hair, and fight traffic to get to a place where essentially you
made lots of money for somebody else and were asked to be grateful for the opportunity to do so?”
—Charles Bukowski, Factotum, Black Sparrow Press, 1975
EIGHT HOURS
"One of the saddest things is that the only thing that a man can do for eight hours a day, day after day, is work. You can't
eat eight hours a day nor drink for eight hours a day nor make love for eight hours—all you can do for eight hours is work.
Which is the reason why man makes himself and everybody else so miserable and unhappy."
—William Faulkner, interview in Writers at Work, 1958
MENTAL DERANGEMENT
"Industrial man—a sentient reciprocating engine having a fluctuating output, coupled to an iron wheel revolving with uniform
velocity. And then we wonder why this should be the golden age of revolution and mental derangement."
—Aldous Huxley, Time Must Have a Stop, 1944
COMPOST
"But men labor under a mistake. The better part of the man is soon ploughed into the soil for compost. By a seeming fate,
commonly called necessity, they are employed, as it says in the old book, laying up treasures which moth and rust will
corrupt and thieves break through and steal. It is a fool's life, as they will find when they get to the end of it, if not
before."
—Henry David Thoreau, Walden, 1854
12 October 2009
11 October 2009
03 October 2009
30 September 2009
18 September 2009
People
I don't know why, and you may consider me crazy or aberrant if you wish, but the sheer number of people on the planet gives me the creeps, the willies; I react in a similar way when splitting open a log and seeing thousands of teeming termites spill out, or overturning a large rock and seeing ants scatter, towing their white pupae. I do not react this way to individual humans (or at least rarely -- there are some undeniably creepy individuals.) Every day I see all the people zooming in all directions in cars, on bikes, on foot, in planes, on skateboards, rushing madly around their anthill. It makes me want to hide deep in the woods.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)




