I thought he'd be good.....and he is
Thoughts, wrote Nietzsche, are shadows of our feelings: always darker, emptier, and simpler than these. And the written word, it strikes me, is but a shadow of our thoughts.
I’ve been working on this piece for nearly an hour now, writing a clause or two, thinking about it, writing another, going back and changing what I’ve written, moving things around, deleting, deleting, deleting, and yet all it probably took you to read it is two minutes. How different it would seem if we were talking. For it appears, reading back, that I have a certain point in mind and am taking the shortest route available to making that point, when in fact I’ve been discovering things as I’ve gone, not knowing what I would find.