“She was a dear pet of mine. I remember John being amazed to see me being so loving to an animal. He said, ‘I’ve never seen you like that before.’ I’ve since thought, you know, he wouldn’t have. It’s only when you’re cuddling around with a dog that you’re in that mode, and she was a very cuddly dog.”
[Paul, Many Years From Now, Barry Miles]
Paul with his beloved Old English Sheepdog, Martha who was born on the 16th June, 1966. Incidentally the photos were (allegedly) taken on Paul’s 25th birthday in 1967.
Não dê tanta importância à melhor roupa para vestir, à melhor frase para o primeiro encontro, às calorias que deve queimar, à melhor resposta para quem lhe ofendeu, às perguntas que precisa fazer para se autoconhecer. Chega de se autoconhecer. Deixe-se em paz.
when they were fifteen, they were both in New York City, and they went out for
a dinner. Plimpton ordered soft-shell
crabs. A horrified River abruptly left the restaurant. When Plimpton followed
him, she found him walking down Park Avenue, crying.
‘’I love you so much – why?’’ he wept. He was devastated that she
was eating animals, but even more, he was deeply wounded that he hadn’t been
able to convince her that veganism was the better, more moral path.
‘’I love him for that’’, Plimpton said. ‘’For his dramatic desire that we share
every belief, that I be with him all the way.’’
from Last Night At The Viper Room by
Eu, por exemplo, gosto do cheiro dos livros. Gosto de interromper a leitura num trecho especialmente bonito e encostá-lo contra o peito, fechado, enquanto penso no que foi lido. Depois reabro e continuo a viagem. (…) Gosto do barulho das paginas sendo folheadas. Gosto das marcas de velhice que o livro vai ganhando: (…) a lombada descascando, o volume ficando meio ondulado com o manuseio. Tem gente que diz que uma casa sem cortinas é uma casa nua. Eu penso o mesmo de uma casa sem livros.