Reading Shakespeare, the Greeks, and the classics; reading for life-wisdom, nourishment, guidance and growth; reading to save one's soul and to make sense of oneself and the enigma of life -- this kind of reading rarely exists anymore.
In particular, reading for hours about life in a tiny raft sailing in the middle of the ocean from atop the bottom bunk in a colorless, cinder-block room primed me for the sort of quasi-hallucinatory episode rarely experienced in sobriety.
I'd been reading Body-for-LIFE by Bill Phillips, and "fasted cardio" was one of the things he recommended.
I did not go to Harvard or M.I.T., but I have met many people who did, and they have all told similar tales of a land where you read for your life: knowing the facts and being able to drop them constantly in conversation (with commentary, no less) are prerequisites for coolness (for coolness!).
"A Service of Thanksgiving at Westminster Abbey," it read, "for the Life of the Lady Mary Soames, Winston Churchilll's youngest daughter.
I was for the first time in my life reading for the love of the story.
The minute I left Koffee that afternoon, I was elated by a rare feeling — the certainty that I had met a future associate, someone I would enjoy knowing and reading for the rest of my life.
E-mail address GO SIGN UP Share Tweet The minute I left Koffee that afternoon, I was elated by a rare feeling — the certainty that I had met a future associate, someone I would enjoy knowing and reading for the rest of my life.
Lies My Teacher Told Me is something I will be reading for the rest of my life.
As much as I have loved poetry, I don't particularly like that it can be so opaque, and in Matthew Dickman's poems I believed there was a promising, alternate path for me to follow, forged by a poet I would be reading for the rest of my life.
