Today on the second meeting my class went inexplicably well; now what am I supposed to do? I am eighty percent sure that academia can’t be the place for me—but this is the tormenting thing, the reason I haven’t left: that if it were somehow the place for me, if I could learn to enjoy it, then everything would be so much simpler—I would have a place in the life-world instead of eternally grousing from under the floorboards—
...they landed in Sicily and were building the walls of a city without guarding themselves against the harpasos, which is the most hostile of birds for builders if not followed by a heron; for it has an evil influence on a rising tower and on the measuring cord, as the surveyors stretch it out to lay a narrow alley and a flat street.... may you go... the wings of a hawk... if you ever lead people to a colony (in a foreign land).
Callimachus frag 43, 60-68
