• The other day I noticed that my Muse, who had long been ailing, silent and morose, was showing signs of actual illness. Thus begins Belloc's essay "On the illness of my Muse." I'm sure some of you will be able to relate to that. The essay describes his Muse's terrible state and Belloc is compelled

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  • I mention these as more or less curiosities. I wouldn't recommend them for their merits, especially not the second one, but if you're interested in the authors and books which are their sources, you may find the films interesting. Pride and Prejudice (1940) I suppose zealous Austen fans have seen this. It's certainly worth a

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  • I recorded both of these some time ago, and by "some time ago" I mean at least a couple of years. Probably they were on Turner Classic Movies. They were two of many that I recorded out of a slight sense of duty–"Oh, I've heard of that, the critics talk about it, I should see

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  • My sisters and I grew up surrounded by excellent books, all chosen by our mother and almost all of them British classics. (I have often wondered where my mother, a Chinese immigrant to California, acquired her knowledge of English children's literature.) As children, we didn't know that they were classics. They furnished the imaginative landscape

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  • "I'd be buried in Georgia, if I could have my way, but it's a far piece to Georgia and nobody's gonna tote me. So I'll be buried up here in this cold," he added. "I don't like this cold. Of course, they say when you're dead the temperature don't concern you, but who knows the

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  • I know I said I wasn't going to post till Sunday, but I think it's appropriate to pass this on. Janet Cupo has been doing a series of Holy Week posts based on the art of Giotto, and it's really good. I was especially touched by the Good Friday series. I will make a confession:

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  • Between God and the individual soul…there are no insignificant moments. —Fr. Walter J. Ciszek, S.J.   Tomorrow is Holy Thursday, and I probably won't be posting again until Sunday. 

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  • In all the many books that I have read, there exists much truth and wisdom, but in not a single volume has the truth of lovemaking been revealed. When I lie in the arms of [my wife], in ecstasy, it is essentially not about sensation but about passion, and passion is not of the flesh

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  • Lost Horizon

    I know it was right around here somewhere but now I can't find it.

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  • I found this poor creature, apparently some terribly malformed waterfowl, perhaps an infant, washed up on the beach a few days ago. It couldn't have lived very long, having apparently no internal organs at all. And of course I  immediately thought: Climate change! I'm not completely inventing this fear, either. I've always described myself as

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