the art of being sensible: “run mad as often as you choose, but do not faint.”

September 1, 2012

I seem to have woken my heart up again with an odd dream. It’s reluctant to go back to sleep, and I’m reluctant to make it do so just yet, so I might just read a few appropriately enjoyable books and let it run rampant a little until it gets tired from lack of feeding and goes back to sleep of its own accord.

(After all, the occasional heartache can be a pleasurable experience, but random pangs of sentiment are just disconcerting while eating minestrone and toast. And of the two, heartache is fleeting as the day and fickle as the glitter of morning dew, but soup and toast will continue to be good and sensible until the firmaments crumble into the sea and trumpets sound for the King of Kings.)

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