The Peace of Wild Things
by Wendell Berry
When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
Marc Chagall (1976)
The escape of Charles II to France
A new biography of Grant
THE DOG PATRIARCHY MUST BE STOPPED
Everything about this story is ridiculous. Especially the “I had a bump on my neck once that turned out to be nothing, so now I need an emotional support rodent to fly with me” part.
We’re raising a generation of idiots and calling it progress.
The truth and fiction of Adam and Eve
Massive ancient underground city once housed 20,000 people
Google X and the science of radical creativity
How The Princess Bride built film’s most beloved sword fight
The volatile friendship of Lucian Freud and Francis Bacon
A “horrifying and engrossing” history of madness at sea
Is the traditional Western a thing of the past?
The man who invented Bailey’s
Happy Valentine’s Day week to all the Starbucks lovers out there (yes, I know that’s not the lyric).
Edouard Manet (1869)
Cooking with Gogol
How photography influenced John Singer Sargent
Singing with new lungs
Your feel-good story of the day
People who shelve their books with the spines facing in are monsters. Who does this?
Glad to see the “let’s be adults instead of wussy garbage babies” movement is growing: “There is a growing sense that we are entitled to have the world adapt to our preferences, instead of the other way around…Put your pet in a damn carrier, as people did for decades in a system that worked totally fine before everyone became incredibly self-centered. Thank you.”
People still pay attention to this talentless fucking idiot for some reason.
“Philip Larkin and Me”
Bernstein at 100
African Science Fiction
Are delivery apps killing restaurants?
East End easels
Edward Lear in full
How a dodgy German biologist influenced art nouveau