I have passed a couple of lazy hours on this cold wet afternoon curled up on the sofa with a book. Lovely.

Here is a passage from my current read (which is interesting – a novel about architects! – but a bit of a chore), The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand:

The pressure disappeared with the first word he put on paper. He thought – while his hand moved rapidly – what a power there was in words; later, for those who heard them, but first for the one who found them; a healing power, a solution, like the breaking of a barrier. He thought, perhaps the basic secret the scientists have never discovered, the first fount of life, is that which happens when a thought takes shape in words.

Now for some snooker…

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