beaglesguide8 - The Monday Morning Memo

“Ahead of the bridge across our stream I saw a four-by-four; it had driven onto the shoulder, as if it had suddenly felt the urge to stretch its bones; all its doors were open. I slowed down. I don’t like those high, powerful cars, made with war in mind, rather than walks in the lap of nature. Their large wheels churn up the ruts in the dirt roads and damage the footpaths. Their mighty engines make a lot of noise and produce exhaust fumes. I am convinced that their owners have small dicks and compensate for this deficiency by having large cars.”

- Olga Tokarczuk, Drive Your Plow Over the Bones of the Dead, p. 140, winner of the Nobel Prize in Literature

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