5.03.2011
4.03.2011
1.24.2011
1.18.2011
quote #50

The little bell lies on the ground
Although it tries it cannot sound
It used to ring across the air
Its sweetened tone would linger there
But from a careless hand it rocked
Its shell is only made of crock
Although it lies there split in two
It still tries to ring out to you
Now deep inside my wooden clock
There is a tick but not a tock
Although into the room it chimes
It only tells me half the time
Why do you leave me so confused
I'll miss my bus, my job I'll lose
Oh what is wrong my wooden clock
It breaks my heart to see you stop
The Little Bell
Broadcast
quote #49
Nobody tells this to people who are beginners, I wish someone told me. All of us who do creative work, we get into it because we have good taste. But there is this gap. For the first couple years you make stuff, it’s just not that good. It’s trying to be good, it has potential, but it’s not. But your taste, the thing that got you into the game, is still killer. And your taste is why your work disappoints you. A lot of people never get past this phase, they quit. Most people I know who do interesting, creative work went through years of this. We know our work doesn’t have this special thing that we want it to have. We all go through this. And if you are just starting out or you are still in this phase, you gotta know its normal and the most important thing you can do is do a lot of work. Put yourself on a deadline so that every week you will finish one story. It is only by going through a volume of work that you will close that gap, and your work will be as good as your ambitions. And I took longer to figure out how to do this than anyone I’ve ever met. It’s gonna take awhile. It’s normal to take awhile. You’ve just gotta fight your way through.
Ira Glass
Ira Glass
1.10.2011
12.26.2010
quote #48
...getting old is strange business. It's happening to you every minute of every day, and you almost never give it a thought; then, one day, you catch a glimpse of an old friend, or you hear a phrase from an old song, or your eye falls on a solitary sentence in the daily paper, and suddenly, without being able to do a thing in the world about it, you seem to be for a moment outside your own skin, taking one good long look at yourself, exactly as you stand, exactly as you are.
The Edge of Sadness
Edwin O'Connor
The Edge of Sadness
Edwin O'Connor
















































