“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.


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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