The cover of the 7 May 2012 issue of the Journal of Experimental Medicine, featuring artwork by Lewis Long. Long’s artwork is based on Luk et al.’s findings ”that injection of brain lysate from symptomatic aged mice into the brains of asymptomatic young mice is sufficient to initiate spreading of α-synuclein aggregates and to accelerate the onset of Parkinson’s disease–like symptoms. The original image shows α-synuclein (green) and microtubule-associated protein 2 (red) in the brain of a mouse injected 90 days prior with symptomatic brain lysate.”
Aphorisms are essentially an aristocratic genre of writing. The aphorist does not argue or explain, he asserts; and implicit in his assertion is a conviction that he is wiser and more intelligent than his readers.
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W.H. Auden (via brysonian) It’s as if Auden anticipated the genre of “glib startup advice” blogging. (via buzz) |
![mythologyofblue:
Approaching may be our most profound vocation. Perhaps we do nothing else in our lifetimes but hedge round, surround things and people with greater or lesser precision, more or less conscientiously, swerving or brushing past them, at most grasping them for a moment, never arriving anywhere for good, except, at the very last, in the earth.
-Daniel Robberechts, Arriving in Avignon, p. 15
[image by Jim Denevan]](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m3wbd9lqhK1qac37io1_500.jpg)
Approaching may be our most profound vocation. Perhaps we do nothing else in our lifetimes but hedge round, surround things and people with greater or lesser precision, more or less conscientiously, swerving or brushing past them, at most grasping them for a moment, never arriving anywhere for good, except, at the very last, in the earth.
-Daniel Robberechts, Arriving in Avignon, p. 15
[image by Jim Denevan]
“Just an FYI: Stars in the Universe far outnumber all sounds & words ever uttered by all humans who ever lived.” -Neil deGrasse Tyson
A very important thing to remember.
Her full nature, like that river of which Cyrus broke the strength, spent itself in channels which had no great name on the earth. But the effect of her being on those around her was incalculably diffuse, for the growing good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric acts, and that things are not so ill with you and me as they might have been is half owing to the number who lived faithfully a hidden life and rest in unvisited tombs.
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| — | George Eliot, Middlemarch (via leopoldgursky) |
