Last week's quote (I would pass my body on to a newborn, and rest.) was from a very striking passage in the book I'm reading, Perdido Street Station. The passage is told from the perspective of a garuda (a race of sentient birds) whose wings have been cut off, and who is traveling to a human city on a quest to regain the power of flight.
One day I realized that I no longer dreamed of what I would do when I was whole again. My will burned to reach that point, and suddenly there was nothing. I had become nothing more than my desire to fly. I had adjusted, somehow. I had evolved in that unfamiliar region, plodding my stolid way to where the scientists and Remakers of the world congregated. The means had become the end. If I regained my wings, I would become someone new, without the desire that defined me.
I saw in that spring damp as I walked endlessly north that I was not looking for fulfilment, but for dissolution. I would pass my body on to a newborn, and rest.
New quote is difficulty: Moderate; 2 points.
New sidebar feature: I'm putting a link to an mp3 of the song I'm quoting in the "frequency space" section.Tags: