From the RiverHouse

“I must say a word about fear. It is life’s only true opponent. Only fear can defeat life. It is a clever, treacherous adversary, how well I know. It has no decency, respects no law or convention, shows no mercy. It goes for your weakest spot, which it finds with unnerving ease. It begins in your mind, always … so you must fight hard to express it. You must fight hard to shine the light of words upon it. Because if you don’t, if your fear becomes a wordless darkness that you avoid, perhaps even manage to forget, you open yourself to further attacks of fear because you never truly fought the opponent who defeated you.”

Yann Martel, Life of Pi

From the RiverHouse

“I wrote a letter to my Dad – I wrote, “I really enjoy being here,” but I accidentally wrote rarely instead of really. But I still wanted to use it, so I wrote, “I rarely drive steamboats, Dad – there’s a lot of stuff you don’t know about me. Quit trying to act like I’m a steamboat operator.” This letter took a harsh turn right away.”

― Mitch Hedberg

From the RiverHouse

“No front porches. My uncle says there used to be front porches. And people sat there sometimes at night, talking when they wanted to talk, rocking, and not talking when they didn’t want to talk. Sometimes they just sat there and thought about things, turned things over. My uncle says the architects got rid of the front porches because they didn’t look well. But my uncle says that was merely rationalizing it; the real reason, hidden underneath, might be they didn’t want people sitting like that, doing nothing, rocking, talking; that was the wrong KIND of social life. People talked too much. And they had time to think. So they ran off with the porches.”
Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451

Image ©RiverHouse Photography of Caughdenoy, new York

From the RiverHouse

“When spring came, even the false spring, there were no problems except where to be happiest. The only thing that could spoil a day was people and if you could keep from making engagements, each day had no limits. People were always the limiters of happiness except for the very few that were as good as spring itself.”
Ernest Hemingway, A Moveable Feast

Image ©RiverHouse Photography of Caughdenoy, new York