Today i sat in the library slogging through Leviathan by Thomas Hobbes for a history term paper. In case you’ve never read Hobbes here is a short excerpt from what i was working with:
No man is bound by the words themselves, either to kill himselfe, or any other man; and consequently, that the Obligation a man may sometimes have, upon the Command of the Soveraign to execute any dangerous, or dishonourable Office, dependeth not on the Words of our Submission; but on the Intention; which is to be understood by the End thereof. When therefore our refusall to obey, frustrates the End for which the Soveraignty was ordained; then there is no Liberty to refuse: otherwise there is.
While i read, zoned out, reread, furrowed by brow, and read once more, a girl sat down at the table next to mine with several children’s books. They were the really thin kind where the entire page is a picture and has maybe five words on it. I told her she had a nice reading list. She look at me and said with 100% seriousness, “Yeah, they’re for the worst project ever.” Forgive me for my lack of sympathy.
Barefoot in the Rain 