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The Monday Morning Memo


“In the dark the other night I wrote in my head a whole dialogue between
St. George and the Dragon. Very close relatives those two.
They are eternally tied together – actually two parts of one whole…
So St. George must always kill the dragon and it must be repeated
because if the dragon were finally killed, there would be no St. George
– only a lonely man looking for something to do.”
 

– John Steinbeck

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Random Quote:

“Gray, chilling, pappy, and blah, Manhattan in March of 1965 had resembled a bowl of leftover mush, the one that, if you remember the fairy tale, caused Mama Bear to exclaim, ‘This porridge is too fucking cold!’ Then one Sunday near the end of the month, New Yorkers awoke to a morning as sweet and fine and budding with optimism as Goldilocks’s training bra.

. . . A few of the musicians were busking, boxes at their feet into which passersby were invited to toss monetary tokens of appreciation, but most seemed to be playing for the sheer joy of it; a multicultural, nonjudgmental precursor of American Idol; and even as ominous clouds – darker, more imposing than Papa Bear’s big brown butt – lumbered in from the Atlantic, the dozens of mini-concerts continued, as if music alone could hold the new spring in place and keep a resurgence of winter at bay.”

- Tom Robbins, Tibetan Peach Pie, p. 217

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