An indicator has value when it’s indicating something. But if it’s not indicating something it shouldn’t be there, it’s one of those funny things, you spend so much more time to make it less conspicuous… And if you think about it, so many of the products we’re surrounded by, they want you to be very aware of just how clever the solution was. When the indicator comes on, I wouldn’t expect anyone to point to that as a feature, but at some level I think you’re aware of a calm and considered solution that speaks about how you’re going to use it, and not the terrible struggles that we as designers and engineers had in trying to solve some of the problems. — Jonathan Ives
I think different religions are different doors to the same house. Sometimes I think the house exists, and sometimes I don’t. — Steve Jobs
Blues on Shotwell Street
Grapefruit and Gold
Lemon, Empty Jar and Off Switch
A Wellesley Thanksgiving
How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives. What we do with this hour, and that one, is what we are doing. A schedule defends from chaos and whim. It is a net for catching days. A schedule is a mock-up of reason and order—willed, faked, and so brought into being; it is a peace and a haven set into the wreck of time; it is a lifeboat on which you find yourself, decades later, still living. Each day is the same, so you remember the series afterward as a blurred and powerful pattern. — Annie Dillard
Lemons and a basket
Wonder arises when something quite new and singular is presented… [and] memory cannot, from all its stores, cast up any image that nearly resembles this strange appearance. — Adam Smith
Lemons in a white bowl
Thanks to my mother, I haven’t wasted any time dwelling on whether I’m brilliant or a fool. It’s completely unprofitable to think about it.
— Woody Allen
As quotable as ever.
There’s something in the way time moves through and around a novel, and through us and around us when we are reading it, that is singular to books, that is transcendent, that causes us to rise above the highway, to contemplate time’s passage and its meaning, and to feel its wistful power and wrenching distortions. I think this is truer and more pronounced with novels than with any other form. — Jess Walters, author of Beautiful Ruins