Image via my Pintrest
Man hopes. Genius creates. To create, - to create, - is the proof of a divine presence. Whatever talents may be, if the man create not, the pure efflux of the Deity is not his: - cinders and smoke, there may be, but not yet flame. There are creative manners, there are creative actions, and creative words; manners, actions, words, that is, indicative of no custom or authority, but springing spontaneous from the mind's own sense of good and fair.
Emerson, The American Scholar, 1837.
This morning I sipped my coffee, in a new, blue, ceramic, wave patterned mug, and read Edgar Allan Poe's William A. Wilson, Emerson's The American Scholar, and a few sections from Harriet Jacobs's Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl. Hope you have a relaxing weekend!
p.s. I love this cosy jumper
