And in every detail of your life, if no ultimate purpose redeemed it, there was a quality of greyness, of desolation, that could never be described, but which you could feel like a physical pang at your heart. Life, if the grave really ends it, is monstrous and dreadful. No use trying to argue it away. Think of life as it really is, think of the details of life; and then think that there is no meaning in it, no purpose, no goal except the grave. Surely only fools or self-deceivers, or those whose lives are exceptionally fortunate, can face that thought without flinching?
George OrwellAbout author
- Author's profession: Author, Writer
- Nationality: british
- Born: June 25, 1903
- Died: January 21, 1950
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But not really needing to be rescued sort of makes being rescued more exciting, you know."No, I don't know," Keeley snapped. "Go to school, Mo. I've got mucking out to do."I'm going, I'm going. Sheesh. You must be low on the caffeine intake this morning. I'll come by later to see how the gelding's doing. I've got a kind of vested interest, you know? See you.
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