‘I paid too much attention to other’s opinion. I made unworthy sacrifices because I wasn’t brave enough to cause pain,’ wrote my favorite author, W.S. Maugham. I have been thinking a lot about this sentence. I think no matter how sympathetic we are with others sometimes there is no other possibility but to cause pain because taking responsibility for ourselves is not compatible with the interest of others. Of course it is not always the case and not at any cost, since it would be selfish, I think healthy, instinctive common sense can help finding out from the maze of possible decisions.
When All Seems Lost — and Even When It Doesn’t… As a writer, I read more than average. Not necessarily books that fall within my immediate interests, but rather those I can learn from, marvel at, analyze word by word, and sometimes even those that demand more effort from me than usual. That is how it is with Alice Munro. I bought my first book by her when she received the Nobel Prize. Then life happened, and the volume sat on my bookshelf—either I had no time for it, or it lingered somewhere at the bottom of my list of priorities. When I finally picked it up, I could hardly believe my eyes—or my reaction. First, I was utterly outraged; my blood pressure shot through the roof in an instant, and I almost started swearing in disbelief. I had barely skimmed the first few lines, yet that was enough to know: it was perfect. A true masterpiece. Excellence among the excellent. Every word reached the deepest layers of my soul. I was touched by its purity, its delicacy, the noblest simpli...
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