It Was A Way Of Recognizing Places

I Wanted All Of Her And Resented Other Boys For Wanting Any Part Of Her.

Walter Had Never Liked Cats. They'd Seemed To Him The Sociopaths Of The Pet World, A Species Domesticated As An Evil Necessary For The Control Of Rodents And Subsequently Fetishized The Way Unhappy Countries Fetishize Their Militaries, Saluting The Uniforms Of Killers As Cat Owners Stroke Their Animals' Lovely Fur And Forgive Their Claws And Fangs. He'd Never Seen Anything In A Cat's Face But Simpering Incuriosity And Self-interest; You Only Had To Tease One With A Mouse-toy To See Where It's True Heart Lay...cats Were All About Using People

I Look At My Father, Who Was In Many Ways An Unhappy Person, But Who, Not Long Before He Got Sick, Said That The Greatest Source Of Satisfaction In His Life Had Been Going To Work In The Company Of Other Workers.

Depression, When It's Clinical, Is Not A Metaphor. It Runs In Families, And It's Known To Respond To Medication And To Counseling. However Truly You Believe There's A Sickness To Existence That Can Never Be Cured, If You're Depressed You Will Sooner Or Later Surrender And Say: I Just Don't Want To Feel Bad Anymore. The Shift From Depressive Realism To Tragic Realism, From Being Immobilized By Darkness To Being Sustained By It, Thus Strangely Seems To Require Believing In The Possibility Of A Cure.

Our Visual Cortexes Are Wired To Quickly Recognize Faces And Then Quickly Subtract Massive Amounts Of Detail From Them, Zeroing In On Their Essential Message: Is This Person Happy? Angry? Fearful? Individual Faces May Vary Greatly, But A Smirk On One Is A Lot Like A Smirk On Another. Smirks Are Conceptual, Not Pictorial. Our Brains Are Like Cartoonists - And Cartoonists Are Like Our Brains, Simplifying And Exaggerating, Subordinating Facial Detail To Abstract Comic Concepts.