I came across this; I think it's from Tropic of Capricorn, because I remember reading it before. Henry Miller's writing might seem very politically incorrect today, but these words are just so what's good about being human:
Every day we slaughter our finest impulses. That is why we get a heartache when we read those lines written by the hand of a master and recognize them as our own, as the tender shoots which we stifled because we lacked the faith to believe in our own powers, our own criterion of truth and beauty.
Then I came across this; a quote from Jack London, and it's really quite an expression of non-separation, and, uh, why I'm politically left of center.:
A bone to the dog is not charity. Charity is the bone shared with the dog, when you are just as hungry as the dog.
That's it for today.
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