For though we often need to be restored to the small, concrete, limited, and certain, we as often need to be reminded of the large, vague, unlimited, unknown.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
When I have an idea, it goes from vague, cloudy notion to 100,000 words in a heartbeat.
Possible ideas and thoughts are vast in number. A distinct word for every distinct idea and thought would require a vast vocabulary. The problem in language is to express many ideas and thoughts with comparatively few words.
All we know is still infinitely less than all that remains unknown.
When I'm writing, I am concentrating almost wholly on concrete detail: the color a room is painted, the way a drop of water rolls off a wet leaf after a rain.
Although our intellect always longs for clarity and certainty, our nature often finds uncertainty fascinating.
If I'm writing about a modern-day suburb, there's going to be details of the home and furniture, and if I'm writing about a historical period, those details, those pieces of the world are going to be there as well, but they'll be simplified, because I'm cartooning it.
Exploring the unknown requires tolerating uncertainty.
Because of the accumulation of objects, things are never quite the way I want them to be. There has always been a lack of, well, clarity.
The interpretation of our reality through patterns not our own, serves only to make us ever more unknown, ever less free, ever more solitary.
Every word or concept, clear as it may seem to be, has only a limited range of applicability.