“I don’t know.”

You can tell a lot about a man by the way—the tone of voice, the facial expression, the posture, the frequency and readiness—in which he says, “I don’t know.”

The best teacher I ever had, I realized today, suddenly, has been my sometimes subconscious standard for the right way of doing this. I hear his voice when I think and say those words. I see his face—his mouth and his eyes and his teeth, black from coffee and cigarettes.

Thanks, dear reader, should you ever find me, for being my gadfly.

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About philokalos

Philologist, historian, and lover of great books, I started this blog to keep myself alert to the beauty of what I see amid the demands of my work.
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