"Alas! Why does man boast of sensibilities superior to those apparent in the brute; it only renders them more necessary beings. If our impulses were confined to hunger, thirst, and desire, we might be nearly free; but now we are moved by every wind that blows and a chance word or scene that that word may convey to us.

We rest; a dream has power to poison sleep.
 We rise; one wand’ring thought pollutes the day.
We feel, conceive, or reason; laugh or weep,
 Embrace fond woe, or cast our cares away;
It is the same: for, be it joy or sorrow,
 The path of its departure still is free.
Man’s yesterday may ne’er be like his morrow;
 Nought may endure but mutability!”

Frankenstein, Mary Shelley

poboh:

Watchmaker, Dauphine Alley, Paris, 1932-1933, Brassai.

(via yellowcrayolacrayon)

Timestamp: 1413976015

poboh:

Watchmaker, Dauphine Alley, Paris, 1932-1933, Brassai.

(via yellowcrayolacrayon)

yellowcrayolacrayon:

mermaidskey:

molecularbiologistproblems:

Call me a glutton for punishment, but I thoroughly enjoy the former!

I get where the cartoonist is coming from, but if we told everyone who was interested in science that it’s nothing but a slow grind of data until you die or retire (ha!), nobody would do it. It’s a bait and switch- you have to rope people in with the sexy parts of science, so that the countless hours of data collecting and paper reading don’t seem so onerous. 

But the truth is, any passion requires long hours of repetitious stuff that the lay person doesn’t get to see. Want to be a great writer? You have to write. A lot. And suck at it for a long time. The same goes for drawing or playing an instrument. Love history? Literature? Yeah, you’re going to be doing a lot of countless hours of reading dense and boring stuff. Are you an athlete? Welcome to hours and hours of training and intense physical punishment.

Why does anyone do anything like this to themselves? Maybe we are all gluttons for punishment. But a life lived without passion- passion for science, for art, for physical excellence, for helping others, whatever it is- a life without that wouldn’t be much of a life, really.

I agree with both above comments.

Timestamp: 1413975999

yellowcrayolacrayon:

mermaidskey:

molecularbiologistproblems:

Call me a glutton for punishment, but I thoroughly enjoy the former!

I get where the cartoonist is coming from, but if we told everyone who was interested in science that it’s nothing but a slow grind of data until you die or retire (ha!), nobody would do it. It’s a bait and switch- you have to rope people in with the sexy parts of science, so that the countless hours of data collecting and paper reading don’t seem so onerous. 

But the truth is, any passion requires long hours of repetitious stuff that the lay person doesn’t get to see. Want to be a great writer? You have to write. A lot. And suck at it for a long time. The same goes for drawing or playing an instrument. Love history? Literature? Yeah, you’re going to be doing a lot of countless hours of reading dense and boring stuff. Are you an athlete? Welcome to hours and hours of training and intense physical punishment.

Why does anyone do anything like this to themselves? Maybe we are all gluttons for punishment. But a life lived without passion- passion for science, for art, for physical excellence, for helping others, whatever it is- a life without that wouldn’t be much of a life, really.

I agree with both above comments.

Heading to class

Timestamp: 1413969877

Heading to class

My Heart 
by Frank O’Hara

I’m not going to cry all the time
nor shall I laugh all the time,
I don’t prefer one “strain” to another.
I’d have the immediacy of a bad movie,
not just a sleeper, but also the big,
overproduced first-run kind. I want to be
at least as alive as the vulgar. And if
some aficionado of my mess says “That’s
not like Frank!”, all to the good! I
don’t wear brown and grey suits all the time,
do I? No. I wear workshirts to the opera,
often. I want my feet to be bare,
I want my face to be shaven, and my heart—
you can’t plan on the heart, but
the better part of it, my poetry, is open.