“A work in progress quickly becomes feral. It reverts to a wild state overnight. It is barely domesticated, a mustang on which you one day fastened a halter, but which now you can’t catch. It is a lion you cage in your study. As the work grows, it gets harder to control; it is a lion growing in strength. You must visit it every day and reassert your mastery over it. If you skip a day, you are, quite rightly, afraid to open the door to its room. You enter its room with bravura, holding a chair at the thing and shouting, ‘Simba!’”—Annie Dillard, from The Writing Life (via strangephenomena)
My ideal job would be to just mess with people all day long. "IRL trolling," as the kids call it, but nothing mean. Just like, telling straight-faced, outrageous lies and pretending to be someone I'm CLEARLY not and seeing how much people will put up with.
“She’s got the arrogance of youth that tells her that what she knows about the God is all there is to know about Him. She loves you, so she wants you to stay in that box with her. And that box is too small for you. You can’t understand a God who’s all mercy and no justice. That cute, fuzzy God wouldn’t last two minutes in the Warrens, would he?”—Brent Weeks, Shadows Edge