Friday Quotation: There was a bright light, and someone slapped me.

"I remember being born. In fact, I remember a time before that. There was no light, but there was music; joints creaking, blood rushing, the heart's staccato lullaby, a rich symphony of indigestion. Sound enfolded me, and I was safe. Then my world split open, and I was thrust into a cold and silent brightness. I tried to fill the emptiness with my screams, but the space was too vast. I raged, but there was no going back. I remember nothing morel I was a baby, however peculiar. Blood and panic meant little to me. I do not recall the horrified midwife, my father's weeping, or the priest's benediction for my mother's soul." --Serfina, by Rachel Hartman. I could have posted a lot of things today. There's a Work in Progress I could've done. And I've been thinking of a new regular segment called Links I Got From Twitter Today. The week's been very interesting--meetings and gatherings, ridiculous amounts of procrastinating, then one incredibly productive two hour span for dissertation writing. I've started listening to comedy podcasts, with mixed results. But I will be doing none of those today, for today is quotation day. This is from a book I haven't actually started reading yet, but received for X-Mas all the same. It's off to a good start, I think. Not an incredibly original beginning, but a well-told one, which is more important. Later Days.