The daily readings are taken from the lectionary which divides much of the Bible into three years worth of readings. If you complete the daily readings each day for three years, you will read 15 percent of the Old Testament and 71 percent of the New Testament.
The daily readings are taken from the lectionary which divides much of the Bible into three years worth of readings. If you complete the daily readings each day for three years, you will read 15 percent of the Old Testament and 71 percent of the New Testament.
A French Writer Goes In Search of Lost Time, with a Little Help From Google
New York Review of Books, 2021 In the internet there is a fountain of youth into which at first you drunkenly plunge your face, and then in the dawn light you see your reflection, battered by the years, writes Maël Renouard. In Fragments of an Infinite Memory , he takes a step back to meditate on the effects of online browsing upon our lives.
Maël Renouard begins
Fragments of an Infinite Memory: My Life with the Internet with a memory about memory itself:
One day, as I was daydreaming on the boulevard Beaumarchais, I had the idea it came and went in a flash, almost in spite of myself of Googling to find out what I’d been up to and where I’d been two evenings before, at five o’clock, since I couldn’t remember on my own.
The daily readings are taken from the lectionary which divides much of the Bible into three years worth of readings. If you complete the daily readings each day for three years, you will read 15 percent of the Old Testament and 71 percent of the New Testament.
Dog Rose in the Wind, the Rain, the Earth
, the third title in its Calico series. The collection features writing by eight international authors whose work explores humanity s complex relationship with the natural world. In Farkhondeh Aghaei s story Dog Rose in the Wind, the Rain, the Earth, which appears below in Michelle Quay s translation, a violent rainstorm alters the course of a young woman s life.
On a languid afternoon in Tehran, we passed through the quiet, leafy backstreets of Shemiran and down lanes of upscale, modern houses. As we neared the Ghodsian estate, Father explained one last time, with a frown, that I could turn around right now if I wanted to, that he didn’t care if I got married at all. The image of Hormoz came to mind for a moment, in the Rome airport as he nervously ran around taking care of things, lips trembling as he tried to find the words to say goodbye. From then on, much to my annoyance, he’d been calling me day and night. But what could I