![]() ![]() I did well in school, got along with most folks, experienced moderate athletic success, and looked pretty Joe Average. Grant? Hang in there, and follow me on this.įor whatever reason, I’m one of those folks who grew up looking Apple Pie American normal but inside felt as if I didn’t quite fit in. What does this have to do with the short fiction of Charles L. Over the years I’ve come to accept the fact that in many ways I’m a bit melancholic, sad, even a little lonely. I’ll definitely own up to feeling that quiet desperation. It explains ALL of us, at one time or another. ![]() ![]() And in the end, we go to the grave with the song still in us, never able to express what we wanted to- needed to- while shuffling through this numbing thing called “life.” But it’s repressed deeply inside quiet, restrained, shackled, bringing us to the brink of madness without ever quite plunging us over the edge. Most of us are gripped by worry, anxiety, fear, and a crippling helplessness. Most men lead lives of quiet desperation. The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation, and go to the grave with the song still in them. ![]() The quote in its entirety, by Henry David Thoreau, is even more chilling: It has since I first heard it quoted by Robin Williams in Dead Poets Society. ![]()
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