Books? Great medicine!
All joking aside, I cannot even begin to count the number of books I have read since childhood or how many I handled while working in a library. Books become part of life, a friend I will remember forever, a gateway or hiding place where distraction reigns. Just holding them, turning page after page, waiting to be explored, conquered, talked about and put on a shelf waiting to be taken out again. And so the cycle begins again.
I’m an ex and I’m lovin’ it!
"I used to be a lot of things. Busy. Book addict. Ireland lover. Passionate. College student… and perhaps a tad crazy also. But then friends started saying that I was “slowly turning into a blonde”. Physical discrimination on the basis of hair colour aside, I felt they had a point. Concentration skills went from hero to zero. Walking from the couch to the fridge a massive undertaking. In tears in front of the staircase after work because I had to sleep for an hour before being able to scale its height."
Book lovers, unite!
"I love words, funky ones, cranky ones, utterly ridiculous ones as well as justified paragraphs, intense fonts and long sentences that shout for shortened versions. I’ve been living in Ireland for 12+ years now, and honey, we simply don’t do short sentences in Ireland. Ask Joyce, who once wrote something so flabbergastingly fantastic that he forgot to add punctuation, a sentence of 4,391 words, no less. Molly Bloom must’ve gasped for air once she finished dreaming or thinking it. I am still gasping for air after tackling Ulysses. Talk about kick ass literature."
Malala’s books
“Let us pick up our books and our pens, they are the most powerful weapons." Malala Yousafzai, the schoolgirl who was shot in the head by the Taliban for wanting an education and survived, in her keynote speech to the United Nations, 12th July 2013.”
So many books, so little time!
Yesterday morning – rain, wind, a slight chill in the air – I walked totally wrecked and at snail pace towards the bookshop. Voucher in hand, lots of titles written down on paper just in case my memory checks out on me again. For a while now I had been looking at certain books, longing to buy them someday. That day came yesterday. Proud as a turkey and all dolled up, I went to Chapters in Dublin and kept pushing the elevator buttons to speed up to deliver me the second-hand part of the shop. As I left the elevator, right in front of my eyes stood Friedrich Nietzsche. He looked proud and dapper in a new jacket, and I had to agree he looked better than I did. I ran towards…
Orderly William Butler Yeats
Erin, by Thomas Moore
Erin! the tear and the smile in thine eyes Blend like the rainbow that hangs in thy skies, Shining through sorrow’s stream, Saddening through pleasure’s beam, Thy suns with doubtful gleam, Weep while they rise. Erin, thy silent tear never shall cease, Erin, thy languid smile ne’er shall increase, Till, like the rainbow’s light, Thy various tints unite, And form in heaven’s sight One arch of peace! Thomas Moore (28 May 1779 – 25 February 1852) © Willeke Van Eeckhoutte and Ireland, Multiple Sclerosis & Me, 2011-2013
