Know that the air you breathe, I live to give you, and know that while you live and breathe, you are powerful.
Let me tell you, then, about the time I slew the great big dragon.
While Anselm of Canterbury's famous philosophical nugget was meant for no more than to simply illuminate the splendor of God to the unbelievers of old, someone nonetheless must have imagined as an intellectual curiosity the largest possible human being, one that could not be possibly any bigger if anyone could even try. That intellectual curiosity would nine months later emerge in Barkhamstead, CT.
"Can we really leave for the moon," Jeanne remembered asking Georges, delirious with joy, "oh, Georges, can we really leave?" "Not without leaving a piece of youth," he replied.
“When my mother cooked us pasta for dinner, she spent hours, sometimes the whole day, making sure the sauce and the vegetables or meats were perfect, but never once made her own pasta from scratch, ‘because it took too much time.’ I never understood this about her, until she finally explained it to me one day. ‘It’s the sauce that has to be perfect,’ she said. ‘It’s the pasta’s job to get the sauce to your mouth. In a perfect world the pasta would be perfect too, but it’s not a perfect world, so all the pasta has to do is be not terrible.’ To me, the music is the sauce, and opera is the pasta that gets the sauce to your mouth.”
—So sad, said Mr. Earwicker. —Yes, said Mr. Estragon, —but when I think about all the wonderful things in the world that God has given us, I truly feel better than the man who has made love to all the angels of paradise. —Yes, said Mr. Earwicker.
I scanned the present company, whose vices were all spoken for, scanned the beach around me for anyone who might be present against my knowledge, and then, of course, excluded the possibility of myself. I reassured the company before me that none of us suffered from superbia, and thank goodness for that.