The return of my Muse

Last night I was up until around 3 am writing a flurry of words in my journal. I'm not much of a journaling person, but words and phrases and sentences kept bombarding my thoughts so much so that I had to write them down. It seems that my writing muse has returned with a vengeance. I can only attribute her return to one thing - I opened up a book and started reading.

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I was so out of balance that I hadn't even opened a book since before Christmas. Now I realize that reading not only transports me to new places but also ambushes me with new ideas. It seems that no matter what the book, from Chick Lit to Proust, Winnie the Pooh to the Little Prince I am left with something to ponder, something that sticks with me, seemingly forever. And I don't even have to Like the book (although I gave up the idea that I hac to finish books that I didn't like a long time ago), they still fill me to the brim.

And now I am bursting at the seams.

It's no wonder we all long to put words to paper. What an amazing legacy to leave behind! I had not realized until this week how often an idea from some long ago read novel creeps into my thoughts, and again, even form books that I dreaded reading (The Red Badge of Courage pops to mind - fine book, but for me was like bamboo under the nails torture). Yes, I want to leave something like this behind.

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So now I am in a full fledged book orgy. Reading everything I can get my hands on - 600 page thrillers getting read in 3 days, meatier tomes causing me to stop an reflect and dog ear pages that I want to return to later on. So tell me, as I'm not up on what has been recently published, what should I read? I'll read a little bit of everything (except for scary, gratuitous violence). Give me some suggestions and a reason to pay off the fine on my library card!

Wise Prince

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All grown-ups were children first. (But few remember it).

I am very fond of sunsets. Come, let us go look at a sunset...

"Where are the people?" resumed the little prince at last. "It's a little lonely in the desert..."
"It is lonely when you're among people, too," said the snake.

Here is my secret. It is very simple: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.

Only children know what they are looking for.

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"What makes the desert beautiful," says the little prince, "is that somewhere it hides a well."

"That is the hardest thing of all. It is much harder to judge yourself than to judge others. If you succeed in judging yourself, it's because you're truly a wise man."



"People where you live," the little prince said, "grow five thousand roses in one garden... yet they don't find what they're looking for..."
"They don't find it," I answered.
"And yet what they're looking for could be found in a single rose, or a little water..."
"Of course," I answered.
And the little prince added, "But eyes are blind. You have to look with the heart."

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