The Purdzilla Show

Photo by  Rob Jackson  on  Unsplash Long ago, when he had been famous among his earliest competitors as a youth of great promise, he had followed his father to the grave. His mother had died, years before. These solemn words, which had been read at his father's grave, arose in his mind as he went down the dark streets, among the heavy shadows, with the moon and the clouds sailing on high above him. 'I am the resurrection and the life, saith the Lord: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: and whosoever liveth and believeth in me, shall never die. ' Charles Dickens (in A Tale Of Two Cities )

Photo by  Anna Dziubinska  on  Unsplash

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way— in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only. (Charles Dickens, A Tale Of Two Cities )

Butch :  [looking into the deep canyon and the river far below]  No, we'll jump. Sundance : Like hell we will. Butch : No, it'll be OK - if the water's deep enough, we don't get squished to death. They'll never follow us. Sundance : How do you know? Butch : Would you jump if you didn't have to? Sundance : I have to and I'm not gonna. Butch : I'll jump first. Sundance : Nope. Butch : Then you jump first. Sundance : No, I said! Butch : What's the matter with you?! Sundance : I can't swim! Butch :  [laughing]  Why, you crazy — the  fall'll  probably kill ya!

We’ve been talking about Trump as if he cares about risk and he wants to manage it well. I don’t think that’s true. I think that his whole life is about doing whatever his impulses tell him to do. And then, after the fact, telling a story that renders him the hero of the story. (Michael Lewis in an interview about his book The Fifth Risk)

Beach at Filey, North Yorkshire The dunes were rich and spreading, billowing and easy like dusty sheets. The air felt both cool and warm at once; a breeze disguised the confusion, and the grey haze lightly accented the precision of the northern English summer weather.  Pete Townshend (in Horse's Neck )

Photo by  Randy Fath  on  Unsplash White winter had set in with the cruel stillness of cloudless frosts, with its thick crunching snow, rosy hoar-rimmed trees, pale emerald sky, smoke-capped chimneys, puffs of vapour from momentarily opened doors, of fresh faces stung by the cold, and the jerky trot of shivering horses. Ivan Turgenev (in Fathers And Sons )