Any book which focuses on father - son relationships pulls on my heartstrings which will be forever taut. But not every book makes it to my thoughts and resonates with my beliefs so thoroughly. The purpose of Speaker for the Dead, is stated by the author: to make a book which would tell the truth about someone's life, not a saint, but someone who is utterly cruel and evil. Of course that's paraphasing and the book is about way more than I feel like writing tonight but it's interesting anyway. Why would an author want to write the truth about someone cruel? He said because the cruelest thing someone can do after a person dies is lie about them in order to remake their life to how you see fit. That erases who they are which truly kills them. The hardest thing to do is tell the truth even though you know it will cause much pain and possibly much suffering to do it. He describes the pain like unto a hot iron which cauterizes a wound. The truth will eliminate the lies and the cycle or patterns of life we've set up to carry those lies will also be eliminated. This book is about exactly that. The truth will eliminate destructive patterns. Why? The author explains that as well. Knowing the truth allows love to take form. We were not made to love lies, we were made to love the truth. It is our foundation and so knowing a truth is really recognizing what we already knew to be true, it is knowing ourself, and it is knowing our Maker. Try it out sometime, if there is anyone or anything you feel anger and hate towards, spend sometime getting to know the truth about them. I bet you come away much richer from the experience than if you decided to build that hate into your life.
"Whoso seeketh out a thing with zeal shall find it."
Speaker for the Dead by Orson Scott Card
Any book which focuses on father - son relationships pulls on my heartstrings which will be forever taut. But not every book makes it to my thoughts and resonates with my beliefs so thoroughly. The purpose of Speaker for the Dead, is stated by the author: to make a book which would tell the truth about someone's life, not a saint, but someone who is utterly cruel and evil. Of course that's paraphasing and the book is about way more than I feel like writing tonight but it's interesting anyway. Why would an author want to write the truth about someone cruel? He said because the cruelest thing someone can do after a person dies is lie about them in order to remake their life to how you see fit. That erases who they are which truly kills them. The hardest thing to do is tell the truth even though you know it will cause much pain and possibly much suffering to do it. He describes the pain like unto a hot iron which cauterizes a wound. The truth will eliminate the lies and the cycle or patterns of life we've set up to carry those lies will also be eliminated. This book is about exactly that. The truth will eliminate destructive patterns. Why? The author explains that as well. Knowing the truth allows love to take form. We were not made to love lies, we were made to love the truth. It is our foundation and so knowing a truth is really recognizing what we already knew to be true, it is knowing ourself, and it is knowing our Maker. Try it out sometime, if there is anyone or anything you feel anger and hate towards, spend sometime getting to know the truth about them. I bet you come away much richer from the experience than if you decided to build that hate into your life.
Life in a Day
What an amazing film! I can't believe I hadn't heard of this. Basically this film was made from citizens around the world and what they recorded on July 24th, 2010. The directors took this footage (over 4,500hrs) and wove a story about us and what our lives reflect all over the world on the same day. Looking into the lives of all these people I couldn't help but to feel a deep connection and appreciation for the diversity we represent. From race, religion, expressions, thoughts, behaviors, routines, jobs, there's so much in this film that the directors don't explain which adds to the viewers experience and interpretation. We are truly a complex and beautiful race. Life in a day.
Frankenstein or the Modern Prometheus by Mary Shelley
This book was a totally new experience compared to the one I had in 8th grade or so. My ideas of who the creature that Frankenstein created were completely erroneous. This book is genius and written in genius form. Please forget everything you think you know from your middle school encounter and re-explore this masterpiece again. Make sure you are not reading some dumbed down version. The prose should flow like this:
"Begone! I will not hear you. There can be no community between you and me; we are enemies. Begone, or let us try our strength in a fight, in which one must fall."
"How can I move thee? Will no entreaties cause thee to turn a favourable eye upon thy creature, who implores thy goodness and compassion? Believe me, Frankenstein: I was benevolent; my soul glowed with love and humanity: but am I not alone, miserably alone? You, my creator, abhor me; what hope can I gather from your fellow-creatures, who owe me nothing? they spurn and hate me. The desert mountains and dreary glaciers are my refuge. I have wandered here many days; the caves of ice, which I only do not fear, are a dwelling to me, and the only one which man does not grudge. These bleak skies I had, for they are kinder to me than your fellow-beings. If the multitude of mankind knew of my existence, they would do as you do, and arm themselves for my destruction. Shall I not then hate them who abhor me? I will keep no terms with my enemies. I am miserable, and they shall share my wretchedness. Yet it is in your power to recompense me, and deliver them from an evil which it only remains for you to make so great that not only you and your family, but thousands of others, shall be swallowed up in the whirlwinds of its rage. Let your compassion be moved, and do not disdain me. Listen to my tale: when you have heard that, abandon or commiserate me, as you shall judge that I deserve. But hear me. The guilty are allowed, by human laws, bloody as they are, to speak in their own defence before they are condemned. Listen to me, Frankenstein. You accuse me of murder; and yet you would, with a satisfied conscience, destroy your own creature. Oh, praise the eternal justice of man! Yet I ask you not to spare me: listen to me; and then, if you can, and if you will, destroy the work of your; hands."
A conversation between Victor Frankenstein and his creation before the novel truly unfolds. Now go read this book.
"Begone! I will not hear you. There can be no community between you and me; we are enemies. Begone, or let us try our strength in a fight, in which one must fall."
"How can I move thee? Will no entreaties cause thee to turn a favourable eye upon thy creature, who implores thy goodness and compassion? Believe me, Frankenstein: I was benevolent; my soul glowed with love and humanity: but am I not alone, miserably alone? You, my creator, abhor me; what hope can I gather from your fellow-creatures, who owe me nothing? they spurn and hate me. The desert mountains and dreary glaciers are my refuge. I have wandered here many days; the caves of ice, which I only do not fear, are a dwelling to me, and the only one which man does not grudge. These bleak skies I had, for they are kinder to me than your fellow-beings. If the multitude of mankind knew of my existence, they would do as you do, and arm themselves for my destruction. Shall I not then hate them who abhor me? I will keep no terms with my enemies. I am miserable, and they shall share my wretchedness. Yet it is in your power to recompense me, and deliver them from an evil which it only remains for you to make so great that not only you and your family, but thousands of others, shall be swallowed up in the whirlwinds of its rage. Let your compassion be moved, and do not disdain me. Listen to my tale: when you have heard that, abandon or commiserate me, as you shall judge that I deserve. But hear me. The guilty are allowed, by human laws, bloody as they are, to speak in their own defence before they are condemned. Listen to me, Frankenstein. You accuse me of murder; and yet you would, with a satisfied conscience, destroy your own creature. Oh, praise the eternal justice of man! Yet I ask you not to spare me: listen to me; and then, if you can, and if you will, destroy the work of your; hands."
A conversation between Victor Frankenstein and his creation before the novel truly unfolds. Now go read this book.
What is Ego?
People of Passion #2
http://well.blogs.nytimes.com/2013/04/17/is-organic-better-ask-a-fruit-fly/?smid=fb-share
If it works for fruit flies, it works for me =)
If it works for fruit flies, it works for me =)
Bambi: A Life in the Woods by Felix Salten
This is certainly not the story you remember from the walt disney movie. This is the original, written to awaken our compassion towards animals, written for a new race of men.
"Do you see, Bambi," the old stag went on, "do you see how He's (the hunter) lying dead, like one of us? Listen, Bambi. He isn't all-powerful as they say. Everything that lives and grows doesn't come from Him. He isn't above us. He's just the same as we are. He has the same fears, the same needs, and suffers in the same way. He can be killed like us, and then He lies helpless on the ground like all the rest of us, as you see Him now."
There was a silence.
"Do you see, Bambi," the old stag went on, "do you see how He's (the hunter) lying dead, like one of us? Listen, Bambi. He isn't all-powerful as they say. Everything that lives and grows doesn't come from Him. He isn't above us. He's just the same as we are. He has the same fears, the same needs, and suffers in the same way. He can be killed like us, and then He lies helpless on the ground like all the rest of us, as you see Him now."
There was a silence.
"Do you understand me, Bambi?" asked the old stag.
"I think so," Bambi said in a whisper.
"Then speak," the old stag commanded.
Bambi was inspired, and said trembling, "There is Another who is over us all, over us and over Him."
O My Brother!
Hearken to the delightsome words of My honeyed tongue, and quaff the stream of mystic holiness from My sugar-shedding lips. Sow the seeds of My divine wisdom in the pure soil of thy heart, and water them with the water of certitude, that the hyacinths of My knowledge and wisdom may spring up fresh and green in the sacred city of thy heart.
-The Hidden Words
-The Hidden Words
"Just write down what you're thinking"
March 2nd - March 20th is known to Baha'i's as the month of the Fast, where we abstain from eating and drinking from sun up to sun down. It's a whole month (Baha'i months are 19 days) dedicated to spiritual rejuvenation. The Fast acts like a mechanic working to align your spiritual orientation towards prayer, teaching, and service to others day by day. The hope is this alignment will last a full year. Each year is different for me. I'm continuing my adventure within the realm of love. It's not like we ever leave this realm but we can choose to take a closer look if we want to.
So there's this book. Love: Jewels from the words of Abdu'l-Baha. It's short but literally filled with jewels. Each small quote is only a few lines long but holds such beauty and profoundness that I had to share one with you. It goes.
So this quote strikes me as particularly beautiful because of the analogy of love being a link between us and God, and not just any link, a living link! Plugging in a USB cable to a computer uploads or downloads information to and from a computer and happens at a consistent rate, I'd call this an electrical link. But a living link, what would that be? Maybe like some form of a symbiotic relationship? A link made from love. I remember someone talking about this like if God was the generator then all man had to do was plug in. Love is the link, the plug, the cable. If man has no love then he can't receive God's love. Like sitting next to a generator without plugging in, all that power and potential waiting for us to reach out. That's God, always loving, always the powerful generator, waiting for us to reach for Him and plug in.
So there's this book. Love: Jewels from the words of Abdu'l-Baha. It's short but literally filled with jewels. Each small quote is only a few lines long but holds such beauty and profoundness that I had to share one with you. It goes.
Love is the light that guideth in darkness, the living link that uniteth God with man, that assureth the progress of every illumined soul.If you look back to an earlier post I wrote called "Love - the Adam Lanza part" and in that post I wrote about this theme of love as a light. That's why I so enjoy reading spiritual Words because they hold Truths we already know, but something else also happens when we read them and connect with them. Hard to explain it.
So this quote strikes me as particularly beautiful because of the analogy of love being a link between us and God, and not just any link, a living link! Plugging in a USB cable to a computer uploads or downloads information to and from a computer and happens at a consistent rate, I'd call this an electrical link. But a living link, what would that be? Maybe like some form of a symbiotic relationship? A link made from love. I remember someone talking about this like if God was the generator then all man had to do was plug in. Love is the link, the plug, the cable. If man has no love then he can't receive God's love. Like sitting next to a generator without plugging in, all that power and potential waiting for us to reach out. That's God, always loving, always the powerful generator, waiting for us to reach for Him and plug in.
Dreams
I tend to dream a lot. And my moods will be heavily influenced by them. I've spoken to people through dreams, I've spoken different languages, flew, confronted my challenges in various forms, and so many things. I enjoy going to sleep wondering what the next dream might be. They constantly surprise me. Or perhaps I am surprising myself? Where do they all come from? And why do some people dream and remember them and some people believe they don't dream because they can't remember anything? It's strange.
Anyway, I had a dream last night, a symbolic dream, so I'll share it with you. Of course you really have to be in the dream to understand but I'll try.
(the picture has very little to do with the dream)
I was floating in a clear lake with a fishing pole in my hand. My dad was floating beside me. My brothers were floating near by too. We were all floating and fishing with worms. We weren't catching anything or rather there were no fish to catch because we could see down to the bottom and there were just rocks down there. All of a sudden a huge fish breaks the surface, it must have weighed over 20lbs, and looked like some kind of large mouth bass. We all were super excited and started casting our lines next to it. The fish wasn't scared at all from our excitement and just lazily swam around along the bottom passing our fishing lines as if they were of little consequence. I finally put my hook right near its mouth and the huge fish chomped down and I pulled to try to snag it with the hook. Unfortunately the fish just spat out my hook. My dad and brothers were really excited when it swallowed my hook and then really disappointed when it spat it out. They were like, "aww man, come on, why did you pull so hard", etc etc, but I was busy trying to catch it again so paid them little attention. Then the next thing happened in an instant and left all of us with our mouths open, stunned in awe.
What happened was, the big fish continued to lazily swim on the bottom after I missed it when a guy with snorkel gear quickly dived down, grabbed the big fish, wrapped it in a roped, strapped it on his back, and swam off. I think just before he did that I had a similar thought like, "this fish is so slow I could just grab him." But in an instant the fish was gone.
And I woke up.
So, what do you think?
Anyway, I had a dream last night, a symbolic dream, so I'll share it with you. Of course you really have to be in the dream to understand but I'll try.
(the picture has very little to do with the dream)
I was floating in a clear lake with a fishing pole in my hand. My dad was floating beside me. My brothers were floating near by too. We were all floating and fishing with worms. We weren't catching anything or rather there were no fish to catch because we could see down to the bottom and there were just rocks down there. All of a sudden a huge fish breaks the surface, it must have weighed over 20lbs, and looked like some kind of large mouth bass. We all were super excited and started casting our lines next to it. The fish wasn't scared at all from our excitement and just lazily swam around along the bottom passing our fishing lines as if they were of little consequence. I finally put my hook right near its mouth and the huge fish chomped down and I pulled to try to snag it with the hook. Unfortunately the fish just spat out my hook. My dad and brothers were really excited when it swallowed my hook and then really disappointed when it spat it out. They were like, "aww man, come on, why did you pull so hard", etc etc, but I was busy trying to catch it again so paid them little attention. Then the next thing happened in an instant and left all of us with our mouths open, stunned in awe.
What happened was, the big fish continued to lazily swim on the bottom after I missed it when a guy with snorkel gear quickly dived down, grabbed the big fish, wrapped it in a roped, strapped it on his back, and swam off. I think just before he did that I had a similar thought like, "this fish is so slow I could just grab him." But in an instant the fish was gone.
And I woke up.
So, what do you think?
To This Day...
I hate Pork Chops.
That is a video about a lot of things. Isolation and love or lack thereof are the main themes. We tried to do a short film about name calling and nicknames when I was in Ecuador. It didn't come out so powerful. This is a very powerful spoken word if you can hear it. And it's got me thinking. About the kids who get picked on, about the kids who pick on, and about everyone else who either watch, take a side, or react. Not many of us react when we see it happening. We might feel bad or guilty or scared or unsure, but we feel something don't we? Which means we are a part of it, even if we weren't the bully or the victim, we experience a feeling. Why not react to that feeling? Why not do something brave, something incredibly brave? Like talk. Talk to the bully, talk to the victim, talk to the people around you, talk to them about what you felt and pray that will lead to the truth of that experience. The truth is bullies and victims are happening all the time, and it's not just trying to find the one or two hundred adam lanza's out there and making sure they get help, it's making sure the 6 billion people on our planet are getting help, are getting a friend to listen to them, are getting a hand to help them up, are getting encouraged to be their true Self. Beauty is how that video ends and beauty is what we all are, we sometimes just need a friend to show us.
That is a video about a lot of things. Isolation and love or lack thereof are the main themes. We tried to do a short film about name calling and nicknames when I was in Ecuador. It didn't come out so powerful. This is a very powerful spoken word if you can hear it. And it's got me thinking. About the kids who get picked on, about the kids who pick on, and about everyone else who either watch, take a side, or react. Not many of us react when we see it happening. We might feel bad or guilty or scared or unsure, but we feel something don't we? Which means we are a part of it, even if we weren't the bully or the victim, we experience a feeling. Why not react to that feeling? Why not do something brave, something incredibly brave? Like talk. Talk to the bully, talk to the victim, talk to the people around you, talk to them about what you felt and pray that will lead to the truth of that experience. The truth is bullies and victims are happening all the time, and it's not just trying to find the one or two hundred adam lanza's out there and making sure they get help, it's making sure the 6 billion people on our planet are getting help, are getting a friend to listen to them, are getting a hand to help them up, are getting encouraged to be their true Self. Beauty is how that video ends and beauty is what we all are, we sometimes just need a friend to show us.
Silver Linings Playbook
There are only two romance dramas worth watching, as far as I know, 1. Rachel getting married, and...
2. Silver Linings Playbook. Such a refreshing film. Open, honest, vulnerable, and tasteful to love. There are so many themes in this film and all get touched on in meaningful ways. Hands down one of the best written films I've ever seen. Even though the actors did an amazing job, the lines in this film were well thought out, especially the background banter that would overlap into dialogue at times. Great film. Go watch it. Peripheral Voices
What's that you say? We all have one. It's a voice that speaks to us, faintly, sometimes barely even audible or noticeable, but it's there. I like to think of it as peripheral because it's comparable to something moving outside of your vision and at times we're lucky enough to turn and see it, but usually we're left wondering what it was that passed. Was it even real or did I just imagine something? Same thing, except it's a voice, or a feeling, or an impulse, and it's real.
For example. Today I was rushing to get to a meeting. I ran down my apt stairs to find my neighbors little dog looking up at me. I said, "Hey Doggy" and as I passed the door, yelled in, "Hey So-and-So!" Whereupon she replied, "Hi, how are you?" So I stopped for a second and talked to her. Small talk because I was trying to leave. But when I asked how she was doing, she opened up on a rather personal matter, a health issue. So I was conflicted. My brain and body were trying to urge the conversation to an ending point so I could get in the car and get to the meeting, but this voice said no you should listen to her, this is important, more important than arriving on time to the important meeting. Many times I've ended those kind of conversations and left and felt fine for doing it. The voice never scolds you, it just vanishes and your left wondering if it was real at all. This time I stayed. The voice spoke a few more times during that conversation and basically now I am looking up food remedies to buy on my next shopping trip for my neighbor Susie.
It feels a bit overwhelming to have a voice grounded in pure love for others. And yet I have no control over when it will speak or when it will not speak. I only have the ability to listen or not listen. I can tell you this though, the more you listen and act upon what you've heard, the more the voice speaks.
For example. Today I was rushing to get to a meeting. I ran down my apt stairs to find my neighbors little dog looking up at me. I said, "Hey Doggy" and as I passed the door, yelled in, "Hey So-and-So!" Whereupon she replied, "Hi, how are you?" So I stopped for a second and talked to her. Small talk because I was trying to leave. But when I asked how she was doing, she opened up on a rather personal matter, a health issue. So I was conflicted. My brain and body were trying to urge the conversation to an ending point so I could get in the car and get to the meeting, but this voice said no you should listen to her, this is important, more important than arriving on time to the important meeting. Many times I've ended those kind of conversations and left and felt fine for doing it. The voice never scolds you, it just vanishes and your left wondering if it was real at all. This time I stayed. The voice spoke a few more times during that conversation and basically now I am looking up food remedies to buy on my next shopping trip for my neighbor Susie.
It feels a bit overwhelming to have a voice grounded in pure love for others. And yet I have no control over when it will speak or when it will not speak. I only have the ability to listen or not listen. I can tell you this though, the more you listen and act upon what you've heard, the more the voice speaks.
THE SADDLEBAG by Bahiyyih Nakhjavani
"When his wife died it was not from sickness either. She just looked at him in bed one early morning, her cheeks as ruddy as the hour when he first kissed them, and said, 'I'm tired.' Whereupon she turned her back to him, as if in sleep, and died. The soft breeze of spring winnowing through her hair was like human breath, but it came from T'ien, the Mandate of Heaven. He never forgave himself for not having recognized the proximity of her immortality and realized then that it was not enough to have mastered the art of diagnosing death." pg155
"And as he searched the riddles of a thousand sandstorms, he also realized that he would never be able to save his people from the poison of his dream unless he overcame his fear. Fear's antidote lay somewhere in the region of trust. But where was that?" pg155
"And as he searched the riddles of a thousand sandstorms, he also realized that he would never be able to save his people from the poison of his dream unless he overcame his fear. Fear's antidote lay somewhere in the region of trust. But where was that?" pg155
Relationships
When will we stop and see how deep we can go?
An unusual wish
My friend says... "Some people only learn by falling into holes. I know [a person] who keeps falling into little holes. Holes we know are there but we fall into them. Little holes like drugs, stealing, speeding, etc, basically things that we already know are inherently wrong. So I told [this person]... I wish for you to fall into a really big hole, not these little ones, but a big one."
At first, this statement kind of struck me. I didn't agree, I thought that's like wishing for someone to go through a lot of pain and suffering. Isn't that the opposite of what we all want for one another? Isn't it? Then I thought of all the eye-opening experiences and circumstances that lead to growth and understanding in my life... they were all difficult experiences. And they've made me who I am today. They've craved a more complete me. And I'm able to do so much more with life than ever before so I'm thankful in a way for all those experiences. It's an interesting wish though... I'm not sure I'd wish those experiences on any one but then again if someone was falling into "small holes"all the time, I might wish for something to shake them out of it. Maybe it's the falling that sounds wrong in my friends statement. We could change it to, "I wish for you to climb out of a really big hole, not these little ones, but a big one." I might wish that for someone.
At first, this statement kind of struck me. I didn't agree, I thought that's like wishing for someone to go through a lot of pain and suffering. Isn't that the opposite of what we all want for one another? Isn't it? Then I thought of all the eye-opening experiences and circumstances that lead to growth and understanding in my life... they were all difficult experiences. And they've made me who I am today. They've craved a more complete me. And I'm able to do so much more with life than ever before so I'm thankful in a way for all those experiences. It's an interesting wish though... I'm not sure I'd wish those experiences on any one but then again if someone was falling into "small holes"all the time, I might wish for something to shake them out of it. Maybe it's the falling that sounds wrong in my friends statement. We could change it to, "I wish for you to climb out of a really big hole, not these little ones, but a big one." I might wish that for someone.
Insecurity is like a shadow monster in your room.
You know what I mean? You're a child and you're going to bed when you start searching the room to make sure it's safe. And your eyes fall upon a strange shadow on the wall. You get to thinking, is it a shadow or it is alive? Did it just move? Yes it did, I saw it move. Now you look closer and you can make out the details, arms and head, tentacles, teeth, ears, every one of them is moving. You want to scream out and call your mom or dad. And sometimes you can scream and sometimes you're too afraid so you just bury your head under the covers and hide, hoping it will go away. And it always does go away because daylight reveals its true nature.
Now isn't that just a perfect analogy for insecurity and all those other things that cause us to fear so much so we become paralyzed. And the daylight, what do you suppose that might be? Recognizing truth perhaps, seeing the true nature of things. Once we understand a thing it isn't paralyzing anymore I guess.
I wonder if we could skip that paralyzing fear stage all together. Of course it takes great courage to get up from your bed, in the dark, and take that first step towards the shadow monster, especially when you're not quite sure if it's real or not. Great courage indeed.
O Son of Man!
My eternity is My creation, I have created it for thee. Make it the garment of thy temple. My unity is My handiwork; I have wrought it for thee; clothe thyself therewith, that thou mayest be to all eternity the revelation of My everlasting being.
Rumi's wisdom
each atom of your being
and you will hear in every moment
what the source is whispering to you
without the need for my words
or anyone else’s.
You are, we all are, the Beloved of the Beloved. And in every moment, in every event of your life, the Beloved is whispering to you exactly what you need to hear and know. Who can ever explain this miracle? It simply is. Listen and you will discover it every passing moment. Listen, and your whole life will become a conversation in thought and act between you and Him, directly, wordlessly, now and always.
Perfect Prose
The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck
Joad had moved into the imperfect shade of the molting leaves before the man heard him coming, stopped his song, and turned his head. It was a long head, bony; tight of skin, and set on a neck as stringy and muscular as a celery stalk. His eyeballs were heavy and protruding; the lids stretched to cover them, and the lids were raw and red. His cheeks were brown and shiny and hairless and his mouth full-- humorous and sensual. The nose, beaked and hard, stretched the skin so tightly that the bridge showed white. There was no perspiration on the face, not even on the tall pale forehead. It was an abnormally high forehead, lined with delicate blue veins at the temple. Fully half of the face was above the eyes. His stiff gray hair was mussed back from his brow as though he had combed it back with his fingers. For clothes he wore overalls and a blue shirt. A denim coat with brass buttons and a spotted brown hat creased like a pork pie lay on the ground beside him. Canvas sneakers, gray with dust, lay near by where they had fallen when they were kicked off. - pg15
Joad had moved into the imperfect shade of the molting leaves before the man heard him coming, stopped his song, and turned his head. It was a long head, bony; tight of skin, and set on a neck as stringy and muscular as a celery stalk. His eyeballs were heavy and protruding; the lids stretched to cover them, and the lids were raw and red. His cheeks were brown and shiny and hairless and his mouth full-- humorous and sensual. The nose, beaked and hard, stretched the skin so tightly that the bridge showed white. There was no perspiration on the face, not even on the tall pale forehead. It was an abnormally high forehead, lined with delicate blue veins at the temple. Fully half of the face was above the eyes. His stiff gray hair was mussed back from his brow as though he had combed it back with his fingers. For clothes he wore overalls and a blue shirt. A denim coat with brass buttons and a spotted brown hat creased like a pork pie lay on the ground beside him. Canvas sneakers, gray with dust, lay near by where they had fallen when they were kicked off. - pg15
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