“I went to the country with some children to get pussywillows the other day. They asked me how the pussywillows became woolly? I did not know, but made up some quaint lies which pleased them. Psychologists frown on such conduct, I know, but I can’t help it. Sometimes, however, I wish that my only ability did not lie in the direction of concocting untruths of one sort or another. I wish that I were a great woodcarver, or a wonderfully minute jeweller, or a bookbinder – somebody who can make something satisfying with his hands. In an earlier age I suppose I would have been a professional story-teller, sitting in the market place, spinning yarns and asking for alms – rightly despised by all the craftsmen who had tangible wares to sell… But one must not quarrel with one’s fate, and as it has pleased Providence to make me a sort of accredited prevaricator I must be content.”-- Robertson Davies –
Have a great Monday!
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