My father was a writer. He wrote all of his life, inflicting upon many of us his novels, plays, articles, essays, and self-help books. Some were marvelous; some merely well-intentioned. But of all the things he wrote, his journal is his legacy: by turns wise and bewildering, it neared 1,100 type-written pages when he died in 2010. Although perused many times, this is the first time it will be read - cover to cover, page after page.
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
The Joy of Impracticality
No one should be discouraged from attempting great things simply because they are not practical. Were they practical they would forfeit their greatness.
Labels:
action,
practicality
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