A Thought

"[the artist] had remembered that all men, the healthy ones included, eventually die, and usually with a certain amount of bad grace, but that he, lucky man, is at least being done in by the most stimulating companion, disease or no, he has ever known."

"You wrote down that you were a writer by profession. It sounded to me like the loveliest euphemism I had ever heard. When was writing ever your profession? It's never been anything but your religion. Never... since it is your religion, do you know what you will be asked when you die?... I'm so sure you'll get asked only two questions. Were most of your stars out? were you busy writing your heart out?"

-Seymour, an Introduction

I heart salinger.