Henry Miller, December 26, 1891 – June 7, 1980.
Shalom Harlow @ Versace Atelier Fall/Wint 1995
Eve's weird question time: which of your ocs would you make into a plushie if you had the chance?
I think a lot lately about a line John Steinbeck wrote in East of Eden, an imperfect but deeply passionate novel he wrote for his sons; it's one of my favorite books, though I don't re-read it now as often as I used to. Still, parts stay with me.
He wrote,
In uncertainty I am certain that underneath their topmost layers of frailty men want to be good and want to be loved. Indeed, most of their vices are attempted shortcuts to love. When a man comes to die, no matter what his talents and influence and genius, if he dies unloved his life must be a failure to him and his dying a cold horror. It seems to me that if you or I must choose between two courses of thought or action, we should remember our dying and try so to live that our death brings no pleasure to the world.
"Good Morning, Rose"
My short story for the wlw anthology GLIMM*R!