It Was the Best of Writing and The Worst of Writing
IT WAS the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way- in short, the period was so far like the present period. So writes Charles Dickens in his epic novel "A Tale of Two Cities." Not much has changed except I think the pace of the times. It used to be the horse drawing the carriage of clock, now it is a plane, train, or automobile. Or is the clock pulling us? I wonder. Space and Time are related in some Einsteinian manner. The faster we travel in space, the more time literally flies. We are always going. Books are a way to be, to set aside a period, to be metered by something else than the di...