Welcome to Bookmarker!

This is a personal project by @dellsystem. I built this to help me retain information from the books I'm reading.

Source code on GitHub (MIT license).

35

One day he told me his terminal patient, the one with all the classical records, had died.

How many other terminal patients did he have? How many deaths had my hem-onc witnessed? DId he feel like a failure when his patients died? And by that metric, what case isn't a failure, in the end?

What metric is used instead of immortality to judge the success of a hem-onc?

—p.35 by Sarah Manguso 3 years, 6 months ago

One day he told me his terminal patient, the one with all the classical records, had died.

How many other terminal patients did he have? How many deaths had my hem-onc witnessed? DId he feel like a failure when his patients died? And by that metric, what case isn't a failure, in the end?

What metric is used instead of immortality to judge the success of a hem-onc?

—p.35 by Sarah Manguso 3 years, 6 months ago
121

[...] then he broke up with me.

I was very sad, but I enrolled in five classes the next semester nad made a list of goals including run at least twice a week and avoid all time-wasting social engagements.

mood

—p.121 by Sarah Manguso 3 years, 6 months ago

[...] then he broke up with me.

I was very sad, but I enrolled in five classes the next semester nad made a list of goals including run at least twice a week and avoid all time-wasting social engagements.

mood

—p.121 by Sarah Manguso 3 years, 6 months ago
165

I grew used to being sick and looking forward to recovering.

Then I grew used to being well again for a short while, knowing I'd be sick again sooner or later.

Then I grew used to having no prognosis at all, because with a mysterious disease, all things are possible.

My existence shrank from an arrow of light pointing into the future forever to a speck of light that was the present moment. I got better at living in that point of light, making the world into that point. I paid close attention to it. I loved it very much.

And then one day, my life was a ray again, and the point was gone.

—p.165 by Sarah Manguso 3 years, 6 months ago

I grew used to being sick and looking forward to recovering.

Then I grew used to being well again for a short while, knowing I'd be sick again sooner or later.

Then I grew used to having no prognosis at all, because with a mysterious disease, all things are possible.

My existence shrank from an arrow of light pointing into the future forever to a speck of light that was the present moment. I got better at living in that point of light, making the world into that point. I paid close attention to it. I loved it very much.

And then one day, my life was a ray again, and the point was gone.

—p.165 by Sarah Manguso 3 years, 6 months ago