#saki

The censorious said she slept in a hammock and understood Yeats's poems, but her family denied both stories. ↗

— Saki

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#eccentric #golden-afternoon #humor #saki #twentieth-century

Maybe Laura’s real problem came in admitting this: there was nothing new under the sun. To write a story would be, somehow deep down, to embrace her limits, to admit that, indeed, she would someday die—if not of a worm or a ceiling, then of something else. The very nature of a story admitted this reality. To be a writer was to say, yes, I am just another Murasaki, and it is quite possible that no one will remember my name. ↗

— L.L. Barkat

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#tale-of-genji #writer #writers #writing #nature