On a day when the side effect of Seroquel has gotten ever strong, I managed to pull through The Author's Apology For His Book from Pilgrim's Progress by John Bunyan
Well, when I had thus put mine ends together, I shew'd them others, that I might see whether They would condemn them, or them justifie; And some said, Let them live; some, Let them die; Some said, John, print it; others said, Not so: Some said, It might do good; others said, No.
Now was I in a straight, and did not see Which was the best thing to be done by me: At last I thought, Since you are thus divided, I print it will, and so the case decided.
I think that there will be at least one person who says to me, "Print It."--who might be me myself.
Encountering Bunyan's words, I might want to apologize for the mode and style in my upcoming books--even though I can't do work until the dosage down beginning tonight and I am feeling too unwell, with body jerking around and the head refusing to start, to even think of the books.
I shall admit that, reading writing so fine by Bunyan and the others makes me feel shy to pen down any other line. Writers! Pardon me for infringing the sacred place of writing with limited my words. But having to live through what I have to go through to come this far, the books will be finished, save they have to wait.
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