"We do not grow absolutely, chronologically. We grow sometimes in one dimension, and not in another; unevenly. We grow partially. We are relative. We are mature in one realm, childish in another. The past, present, and future mingle and pull us backward, forward, or fix us in the present. We are made up of layers, cells, constellations."

Anaïs Nin

Tuesday, December 9, 2008

What’s your first memory of love?

IT has been related to me, O happy King, said Shahrazad, that there was a certain merchant who had great wealth, and traded extensively with surrounding countries; and one day he mounted his horse, and journeyed to a neighbouring country to collect what was due to him, and, the heat oppressing him, he sat under a tree, in a garden, and put his hand into his saddle-bag, and ate a morsel of bread and a date which were among his provisions.
I didn't know I would ever be able to tell about it, but it really looked like one thousand and one nights...

1 comment:

DILLY said...

Hewo Plumpiemousie!

Dilly luv to lissen storys.
Like to think ov things in storys.
Dilly think Man hav uther things in bag. Think hav fotoes an littol toy lizard. Dilly think littol toy lizard be magik. Be toy in day, be real lizard in dark. MWEAH! Dilly see story in hed!