"Reading Notes on 'The Moon and Sixpence'"

Book Title: "The Moon and Sixpence"
Author: Maugham
Recommendation: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

I don't remember who once said that in order to cultivate one's soul, a person must do two things every day that they don't like. The person who said this is truly wise, and I have always adhered to this principle diligently: I wake up every morning and go to sleep every night.
Sometimes, a person accidentally comes to a place and inexplicably feels a sense of belonging. They find the home they have been searching for in their heart. Although they have never seen the scenery here and are unfamiliar with the people, they settle down here as if everything here is familiar to them from birth. In the end, they find peace here.
The greatness I am talking about is not the temporary fame of a politician due to their success in the political arena, nor the renowned reputation of a soldier due to their bravery and skill in battle. The success and fame of such people are not necessarily due to their own greatness, but rather the positions they hold. Once circumstances change, they become insignificant. We often find that a former prime minister was just a persuasive orator, and a retired general is nothing more than a mediocre hero.
Considering art as a craft that can only be fully understood by skilled artisans is a ridiculous misconception. Art is the expression of emotions, and the language of expressing emotions is understood by everyone.
All the passionate and grandiose speeches, spoken by people who think they are original, are actually just the same old tune repeated a hundred times by their predecessors, with no change in tone. It's just the swinging of a pendulum, repeating in a never-ending cycle.
I cannot understand why a person who has written a novel must dress shabbily. If you have a good figure, why not show it off? Besides, no editor would reject your "masterpiece" just because you wear fashionable shoes on your pretty feet.
In that era, conversation was still considered an art that needed cultivation. Clever and witty responses were more appreciated than the explosive sound of boiling thorns. Proverbs were not tools for fools to pretend to be intelligent, but rather added a touch of humor to the conversations of literati.
These moral quirks of people, just like their peculiar attire and illogical eccentricities, entertained her greatly, but had no influence on her own beliefs and principles.
"Why do good women always marry boring men?" "Because men with brains don't marry good women."
Sympathy is a pleasant skill, but it is often abused by those who know they possess it. Such sympathizers eagerly display their various tricks and techniques whenever they see their friends experiencing misfortune, which can be quite intimidating. Some people allow their sympathy to gush out like an oil well, leaving the person being sympathized with at a loss. How can I bear to sprinkle my tears on someone whose clothes are already soaked with tears?
We may appreciate a person's character, but we may not want to associate with them. They are dispensable. They may be considered upright members of society, good husbands and fathers, honest stockbrokers, but there is no need to waste time on them.
Perhaps this is the story of countless couples in their lifetime. The life pattern presented in this story gives a sense of simplicity and elegance. It reminds one of a calm river flowing through lush green grass under the shade of trees, eventually merging into the vast ocean. However, the ocean is always so calm and indifferent, which can suddenly make you feel uneasy. Perhaps it is because I have a natural inclination for sudden inspiration (this nature of mine has been very strong since my younger days), I always feel that most people seem to lack something in their lives.
In them, one can only see this vague and indistinct image, just like all the people we usually see. Each person's life is just a part of the social organism, and everyone can only rely on the support of this organism to survive, just like the cells in the human body, indispensable but ignored in a powerful whole.
It is always hateful when a person is morally humiliated and indignant, but lacks the strength to directly teach the evildoer a lesson.
At that time, I did not yet understand how complex human nature is, and I did not know how much acting is involved in sincere expressions.
Poor women, what are they thinking? Love. They only know love. They think that if a man leaves them, it must be because he has found someone new. Do you think I am so foolish that I would do the same things I have done for one woman for another?
Since I was young, I have always wanted to be a painter, but my father insisted that I learn a trade, saying that art cannot make money. I started drawing a little over a year ago. I have been attending night school last year.
Only poets or saints believe that even on an asphalt road, lilies can be grown with diligent watering.
I have a good appetite because I am young, and he eats greedily because he doesn't care about eating someone else's food.
Only a certain type of woman can be so enthusiastic even after repeating the same thing three times.
I asked myself if there was an innate desire for creativity in his soul, which, although suppressed by his life circumstances, continued to grow stubbornly, like cancer cells growing in human tissues, until it completely controlled him and forced him to resist, leaving him with no choice but to act. Just like a cuckoo laying eggs in the nests of other birds, after the young cuckoo hatches, it will squeeze out the other chicks and eventually destroy the nest that sheltered them.
The conversion of the soul can manifest in different forms and can be achieved through different means.
If being unconventional is just the usual behavior of people like oneself, then it is not difficult to be seen as unconventional by the world. This feeling of being unconventional makes one overly proud, allowing them to take pride in their courage and avoid any risks.
Whenever someone tells me that they don't care about what others think of them, I never believe them. It is just a display of ignorant and fearless bravado. What they mean is that they are not afraid of others' criticism because they are convinced that no one will notice their faults.
It's absurd to say that not everyone is willing to do what I do. Most people are satisfied with doing ordinary things.
I believe that conscience is the guardian of a person's soul, guarding the principles gradually formed by society for its own continuation. Conscience is the police officer stationed in the hearts of each of us, supervising us to abide by the rules. Conscience is also the undercover agent lurking in a person's self-awareness fortress.
Conscience compels each person to prioritize the interests of society over personal interests. Conscience is the powerful bond that connects the individual to the whole. Ordinary people often convince themselves that certain interests are more important than their own, willingly submitting to these interests and becoming slaves to their masters. They place their masters on the throne of honor. In the end, just like a court jester praising the emperor's scepter carried on their shoulders, they feel proud of their keen conscience.
For those who do not recognize the power of conscience, they will be harshly criticized with severe words because they are already members of society, and they are
I can't say for sure. Are you saying that if he left you for a woman, you could forgive him, but you couldn't forgive him for leaving you for an ideal? Do you think you can handle women, but you are powerless when it comes to ideals?
I have not yet realized how complex human nature is. Now I understand that baseness and nobility, malice and kindness, hatred and love can coexist in the same person's heart.
Our daily lives are like a tram traveling back and forth along the tracks from the starting point to the terminal station. We can roughly count how many passengers get on our tram. Life is arranged too orderly, which makes me feel frightened. I gave up my rented apartment, sold my few belongings, and decided to start a new life.
Some people say that suffering can make people noble, but that's not true. Happiness sometimes cultivates noble character, while suffering often only makes people narrow-minded and vengeful.
He is emotional, but within his easily moved emotions, there is something absurd and ridiculous that makes you accept his good intentions without feeling grateful.
I imagine that a skillful pickpocket who takes pride in his dexterity would feel annoyed if he encountered a careless woman who forgot her handbag full of valuable jewelry in a taxi.
He is constantly hurt, but he is naturally kind and unwilling to harm others. Even if he is bitten by a snake, he never learns his lesson and, as soon as the wound heals, he tenderly embraces the snake again. His life seems to be written in the format of a farce, but it is actually a tragedy.
It is strange that a person with such accurate and unconventional insights when commenting on other people's works can be so complacent about their own mediocre works. It is truly a strange thing.
Beauty is the most precious thing in the world. How can you think that beauty is like a pebble lying on the beach, easily picked up by any casual passerby? Beauty is a marvelous and mysterious thing, the essence extracted by artists from the chaotic world through the torment of their souls. Once an artist creates beauty, it is not meant for everyone to understand. To truly understand beauty, you must empathize with the artist's ups and downs in their creative journey. Beauty is like a beautiful melody sung by an artist, and you need to use your own heart to feel the beauty. You need knowledge, insight, and imagination.
It is childish. If you don't care about what one person thinks of you, how can you possibly care about the opinions of a group of people?
I don't have time for such boring things. Life is too short to talk about love and art.
I love her far more than I love myself. I feel that if vanity is mixed into love, it can only mean that you only love yourself.
This feeling essentially satisfies the desire for a stable life, the pride of owning property, the satisfaction of being pursued by others, and the sense of accomplishment in building one's own family. It is the kind-hearted vanity of women that gives this feeling spiritual value.
They know very well that ordinary people generally cannot be the kind of person they want to be, but can only be the kind of person they have to be.
Some people pursue truth wholeheartedly, and in order to obtain truth, they are willing to destroy everything that sustains their existence in the world. Strickland is such a person, except that he pursues beauty, not truth. How can I not sympathize with such a person?