-And what is death, he asked, your mother’s or yours or my own? You saw only your mother die. I see them pop off every day in the Mater and Richmond and cut up into tripes in the dissectingroom. It’s a beastly thing and nothing else. It simply doesn’t matter. You wouldn’t kneel down to pray for your mother on her deathbed when she asked you.
buck mulligan
MESSAGE | VISUAL INSPIRATION | ABOUT"Stately, plump Buck Mulligan came from the stairhead, bearing a bowl of lather on which a mirror and a razor lay crossed." - James Joyce, Ulysses
one-one-o-two-six
three, what happened as if it
never did, at all.
through this i shall document what I read for pleasure and what I read for damn uni. Fuck you and thank you uni.
one-one-o-two-six
three, what happened as if it
never did, at all.
through this i shall document what I read for pleasure and what I read for damn uni. Fuck you and thank you uni.
I have spoken disparagingly of Plato’s beard, and hinted that it is tangled. I have dwelt at length on the inconveniences of putting up with it. It is time to think about taking steps.
W. S Quine (My philosophical great-grandfather - taught my lecturer/tutor’s own lecturer)
‘On What There Is’
1 year ago - 
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1
Dying
Dying
Is an art, like everything else.
I do it exceptionally well.
I do it so it feels like hell.
I do it so it feels real.
1 year ago - 1
1 
