Unfinished Projects Quotes

Lots of my dying patients say they grow in bounds and leaps, and finish all the unfinished business. But assisting a suicide is cheating them of these lessons, like taking a student out of school before final exams. That's not love, it's projecting your own unfinished business

I'm convinced true fulfillment is living in God's world one day at a time, savoring it, leaving today's disapointments behind and borrowing no troubles from tomorrow. It's done not only by accepting life, fever, and things that go bump in the night, but also by cultivating love and new and old friendships, and especially by finding a new work or project that makes it exciting just to get up in the morning.

Clean slate? No no never. That's not life. Life is beginner mind with a full slate a dirty slate whatever slate you've got, you are, complicated interactions (with related and unrelated history and triggers), unfinished tasks and incomplete projects.

I think there’s a special saint who protects unfinished projects. Unfinished projects are just as valuable to us as the projects we finish.

I was someone who lived in anxiety. I felt anxiety was part of being conscious in the world; it was a prerequisite of a moral and ethical life. I don't mean the anxieties of Capital, I mean the anxieties of an unfinished world, the unfinished projects of the imagination, as Wilson Harris would put it.

This, then, is the truth of the discourse of universal human rights: the Wall separating those covered by the umbrella of Human Rights and those excluded from its protective cover. Any reference to universal human rights as an 'unfinished project' to be gradually extended to all people is here a vain ideological chimera - and, faced with this prospect, do we, in the West, have any right to condemn the excluded when they use any means, inclusive of terror, to fight their exclusion?

He was inefficient in the old sense of the word; not incapable, but unwilling to be seduced by work--unwilling to be singleminded. Those things that needed to be done were constantly put off for those things that needed to be thought about. And unfinished projects did not pester him to be completed, but represented, in themselves, thoughts he had not finished thinking....

Children, who are dealt with more generously and more liberally by their fathers, do not hesitate to show them unfinished projects that they have only begun, or even spoiled a little. Even if they have not succeeded in doing quite what they wanted, they are confident that their obedience and readiness of mind will be accepted. Such children we ought to be, trusting confidently that our most lenient Father will approve of them, however small, rough, or imperfect they may be.

However we resolve the issue in our individual homes, the moral challenge is, put simply, to make work visible again: not only the scrubbing and vacuuming, but all the hoeing, stacking, hammering, drilling, bending, and lifting that goes into creating and maintaining a livable habitat. In an ever more economically unequal world, where so many of the affluent devote their lives to ghostly pursuits like stock trading, image making, and opinion polling, real work, in the old-fashioned sense of labor that engages hand as well as eye, that tires the body and directly alters the physical world tends to vanish from sight. The feminists of my generation tried to bring some of it into the light of day, but, like busy professional women fleeing the house in the morning, they left the project unfinished, the debate broken off in mid-sentence, the noble intentions unfulfilled. Sooner or later, someone else will have to finish the job.

Marketplace feminism is in many ways about just branding feminism as an identify that everyone can and should consume. That's not a bad thing in theory, but in practice it tends to involve highlighting only the most appealing feature of a multifaceted set of movements. It kicks the least sensational and most complex issues under a rug and assures them that we'll get back to them once everybody's on board. And it ends up pandering to the people who might get on board-maybe, possibly, once feminism works its charm-rather than addressing the many unfinished projects still remaining.

We had lived surrounded by books all our married lives. They were our element. We had written them, read for pleasure, amassed mini libraries for particular projects, collected them, organized them into ever shifting categories, and in the end, dwelled inside what we joyfully called our house of books.

Fate doesn’t always respect what we believe is the end of a life. It will deal your last card to those who come after. Which is why I think all lives are condemned to remain unfinished. This is the deplorable truth we all live with. We reach the end and are by no means done with life, not by a long stretch! There are projects we barely started, matters unresolved and left hanging everywhere. Living means dying with regrets stuck in your craw. As the French poet says, Le temps d’apprendre à vivre il est déjà trop tard, by the time we learn to live, it’s already too late. And yet there must be some small joy in finding that we are each put in a position to complete the lives of others, to close the ledger they left open and play their last card for them. What could be more gratifying than to know that it will always be up to someone else to complete and round off our life? Someone whom we loved and who loves us enough.

Errors in the initial budget are not always innocent. The authors of unrealistic plans are often driven by the desire to get the plan approved—whether by their superiors or by a client—supported by the knowledge that projects are rarely abandoned unfinished merely because of overruns in costs or completion times. In

It implies also that there was a souring of “the earth’s sweet being in the beginning.” Long ago there occurred a besmirching of primordial innocence that has turned the history of human life and the practice of virtue into a project of restoration rather than one of joining ourselves to a universe that is still becoming more.

This so frequent abortion of man's dearest projects must be taken as a proof that the deeds of earth, however etherealized by piety or genius, are without value, except as exercises and manifestations of the spirit. In heaven, all ordinary thought is higher and more melodious than Milton's song. Then, would he add another verse to any strain that he had left unfinished here?

Jefferson was a different kind of man from Robert E. Lee, and the inconsistencies in his position just demonstrate how the American revolution is an unfinished project (as Habermas would have put it). In some sense, its true conclusion, its second act, was the Civil War; in another sense, it was over only in 1960, with the realization of the black right to vote; and in another sense, as the persistence of the Confederacy myth demonstrates, it is not yet over today.

Starters can put years, even decades, of work into a creative practice and come away with nothing concrete, nothing done. Worse, all those unfinished projects linger in their minds, taking up creative bandwidth. Over time, many of the “new” ideas start to look like variations on the old ones, though usually this is more obvious to everyone else than it is to the struggling Starter, who is constantly reinventing the wheel instead of, you know, rolling anywhere. In this endless chase of the new, things start to get old.

Which is why I think all lives are condemned to remain unfinished. This is the deplorable truth we all live with. We reach the end and are by no means done with life, not by a long stretch! There are projects we barely started, matters unresolved and left hanging everywhere.

Errors in the initial budget are not always innocent. The authors of unrealistic plans are often driven by the desire to get the plan approved—whether by their superiors or by a client—supported by the knowledge that projects are rarely abandoned unfinished merely because of overruns in costs or completion times.

This is how Trump voters may have heard Hillary Clinton’s meritocratic mantra. For them, the rhetoric of rising was more insulting than inspiring. This is not because they rejected meritocratic beliefs. To the contrary: They embraced meritocracy, but believed it described the way things already worked. They did not see it as an unfinished project requiring further government action to dismantle barriers to achievement. This is partly because they feared such intervention would favor ethnic and racial minorities, thus violating rather than vindicating meritocracy as they saw it. But it is also because, having worked hard to achieve

Psychologists have devised some ingenious ways to help unpack the human "now." Consider how we run those jerky movie frames together into a smooth and continuous stream. This is known as the "phi phenomenon." The essence of phi shows up in experiments in a darkened room where two small spots are briefly lit in quick succession, at slightly separated locations. What the subjects report seeing is not a succession of spots, but a single spot moving continuously back and forth. Typically, the spots are illuminated for 150 milliseconds separated by an interval of fifty milliseconds. Evidently the brain somehow "fills in" the fifty-millisecond gap. Presumably this "hallucination" or embellishment occurs after the event, because until the second light flashes the subject cannot know the light is "supposed" to move. This hints that the human now is not simultaneous with the visual stimulus, but a bit delayed, allowing time for the brain to reconstruct a plausible fiction of what has happened a few milliseconds before. In a fascinating refinement of the experiment, the first spot is colored red, the second green. This clearly presents the brain with a problem. How will it join together the two discontinuous experiences—red spot, green spot—smoothly? By blending the colors seamlessly into one another? Or something else? In fact, subjects report seeing the spot change color abruptly in the middle of the imagined trajectory, and are even able to indicate exactly where using a pointer. This result leaves us wondering how the subject can apparently experience the "correct" color sensation before the green spot lights up. Is it a type of precognition? Commenting on this eerie phenomenon, the philosopher Nelson Goodman wrote suggestively: "The intervening motion is produced retrospectively, built only after the second flash occurs and projected backwards in time." In his book Consciousness Explained , philosopher Daniel Dennett points out that the illusion of color switch cannot actually be created by the brain until after the green spot appears. "But if the second spot is already 'in conscious experience,' wouldn't it be too late to interpose the illusory content between the conscious experience of the red spot and the conscious experience of the green spot?

Which is why I think all lives are condemned to remain unfinished. This is the deplorable truth we all live with. We reach the end and are by no means done with life, not by a long stretch! There are projects we barely started, matters unresolved and left hanging everywhere. Living means dying with regrets stuck in your craw.

personage was formally identified upon entrance: Acclaimed eighty-seven-year-old poet Robert Frost; father of antibiotics Selman Waksman; literature Nobel Prize winner Pearl Buck; astronaut John Glenn; immunologist Thomas Weller, whose virus research enabled the polio vaccine; J. Robert Oppenheimer, Manhattan Project director; celebrated novelists James Baldwin and William Styron—in all, a parade of 127 guests and their spouses.

Streamline Your Focus Instead of Jumping From Unfinished Project to Unfinished Project Although it seems contradictory, anxiety-related perfectionism can cause people to persist too long on some tasks and leave other projects unfinished. Perfectionists who are intolerant of uncertainty often jump from project to project. They might start multiple business plans, grant proposals, job applications, movie scripts, stand-up routines, craft projects, or novels, and not finish any of them. They may sour quickly on an idea when their self-doubt starts to creep in rather than stay with the idea long enough to realistically judge it’s potential. If you bounce from idea to idea, it could very well be because it’s hard for you to tolerate your uncertainty about whether the idea you’re working on is going to pan out. If you have a habit of not finishing things, you’re likely to be better off sticking with a project and finishing it, instead of jumping to another project when you start to feel unsure. To help you be less tempted to jump around, reduce your exposure to excessive information and alternatives.

Sixty years after the memories of the changes and upheavals of the Sixties have begun to fade, been half-forgotten or become misunderstood, my project with Dick might add our voices … to the task of restoring a “living history” of that decade, allowing us to see what opportunities were seized, what mistakes were made, what chances were lost, and what light might be cast on our own fractured time. Too often, memories of assassination, violence, and social turmoil have obscured the greatest illumination of the Sixties, the spark of communal idealism and belief that kindled social justice and love for a more inclusive vision of America. (Pages 404-405)

Stop your sentence midway through. Ernest Hemingway published fifteen books during his lifetime, and one of his favorite productivity techniques was one I’ve used myself (even to write this book). He often ended a writing session not at the end of a section or paragraph but smack in the middle of a sentence. That sense of incompletion lit a midpoint spark that helped him begin the following day with immediate momentum. One reason the Hemingway technique works is something called the Zeigarnik effect, our tendency to remember unfinished tasks better than finished ones.2 When you’re in the middle of a project, experiment by ending the day partway through a task with a clear next step. It might fuel your day-to-day motivation.

Heisenberg repeated his story about the German bomb program to anyone who would listen for the rest of his life. Goudsmit, who had access to the Farm Hall reports and had seen the pathetic remnants of the Nazi nuclear program firsthand, knew Heisenberg’s story was a fabrication. But, with the existence of the Farm Hall transcripts itself classified, Goudsmit could state only that Heisenberg was lying, without explaining how he knew. The first popular account of the Manhattan Project, Brighter Than a Thousand Suns, written by the Swiss journalist Robert Jungk in 1958, repeated Heisenberg’s story almost verbatim. So did The Virus House, the first book dedicated solely to the history of the German bomb program, which relied heavily on interviews from Heisenberg and his fellow former Farm Hall detainees. (The author, David Irving, was later revealed to be a Holocaust denier.)

I don’t believe a word of the whole thing,” said Heisenberg upon hearing the news. “I don’t believe it has anything to do with uranium.” Hahn jeered, “If the Americans have a uranium bomb then you’re all second raters. Poor old Heisenberg.” After they heard the BBC report the news in great detail later that night, Heisenberg and the others accepted the truth: they had been beaten. Over the next few days, Heisenberg attempted to work out how his project had fallen so far behind; his fumbling calculations show that he had never really understood how to even build a bomb in the first place, though he had certainly thought he’d understood it. And the bickering of the other scientists at Farm Hall confirmed what documents captured by Alsos had already suggested: the Nazi bomb program, unlike the Manhattan Project, was a disorganized mess, with vital information compartmentalized and no clear vision of how to proceed. Yet, in those same few days, the Farm Hall transcripts make it clear that Heisenberg and his student, Carl von Weizsäcker, purposefully constructed a revisionist narrative of their wartime activities. According to them, while the Americans had built a weapon of death and destruction on unprecedented scales, they, the Germans, had deliberately pursued only a nuclear reactor, being unwilling to build a massive new weapon for Hitler’s Reich—thereby placing the responsibility for their failure on their supposed moral clarity, rather than their sheer incompetence.

As the reach of the 1619 Project grew, so did the backlash. A small group of historians publicly attempted to discredit the project by challenging its historical interpretations and pointing to what they said were historical errors. They did not agree with our framing, which treated slavery and anti-Blackness as foundational to America. They did not like our assertion that Black Americans have served as this nation’s most ardent freedom fighters and have waged their battles mostly alone, or the idea that so much of modern American life has been shaped not by the majestic ideals of our founding but by its grave hypocrisy. And they especially did not like a paragraph I wrote about the motivations of the colonists who declared independence from Britain. “Conveniently left out of our founding mythology,” that paragraph began, “is the fact that one of the primary reasons the colonists decided to declare their independence from Britain was because they wanted to protect the institution of slavery.” Later, in response to other scholars who believed we hadn’t been specific enough and to clarify that this sentence had never been meant to imply that every single colonist shared this motivation, we changed the sentence to read “some of the colonists.” But that mattered little to some of our critics. The linking of slavery and the American Revolution directly challenged the cornerstone of national identity embedded in our public history, the narratives taught to us in elementary schools, museums and memorials, Hollywood movies, and in many scholarly works as well.16 The assertions about the role slavery played in the American Revolution shocked many of our readers. But these assertions came directly from academic historians who had been making this argument for decades. Plainly, the historical ideas and arguments in the 1619 Project were not new.17 We based them on the wealth of scholarship that has redefined the field of American history since at least the 1960s, including Benjamin Quarles’s landmark book The Negro in the American Revolution, first published in 1961; Eric Foner’s Reconstruction: America’s Unfinished Revolution, 1863–1877; Annette Gordon-Reed’s The Hemingses of Monticello: An American Family; and Alan Taylor’s The Internal Enemy: Slavery and War in Virginia, 1772–1832. What seemed to provoke so much ire was that we had breached the wall between academic history and popular understanding, and we had done so in The New York Times, the paper of record, in a major multimedia project led by a Black

It seemed odd to me, however, that Jill’s book, Daughters of Dissent, which I came to regard as her unfinished masterpiece, provoked so much uneasiness in Michael. “What happens about the actual stuff there [in the book] I’m not quite sure. I’ll read it through again sometime, but I’m doubtful whether it should be published separately. If you think it should be, that’s another matter. . .” But he proved resistant to my proposal that it should be published with a foreword and afterword explaining Jill’s intentions and how she planned to complete her work. She had left eighteen substantial chapters (well over 250,000 words), but Michael continued to balk at the idea of publishing because Jill never was able to write about the postwar years when women actually got the vote. When Michael Bessie said the book needed considerable editing and shortening to be published, that pretty much shelved the project in Michael’s mind.

Here are fifteen types of questions you should ask: 1. Is this item useful? Can it save me time, energy or money? Does it fulfill a need or purpose? If not, let it go. 2. Do I like it? If not, let it go. 3. Does it make my life easier in some way? If not, let it go. 4. Have I worn it, used it, found pleasure in it or looked at it in the last year? If not, let it go. 5. Does it energize me or drain me? If it drains you, let it go. 6. Is it broken beyond repair or damaged in some way? If so, let it go. 7. Is the information it provides outdated (e.g., old books, magazines, videos, etc.)? If so, let it go. 8. Am I holding on to it out of guilt? If so, let it go. 9. Have I finished using it and see no reason to use it again? If so, let it go. 10. Does it reflect the person I am today or a past version of me? If it reflects the past, let it go. 11. Do I already own something similar? If so, let it go. 12. Will I complete this (e.g., a knitting project, an unfinished book)? If not, let it go. 13. Am I spending too much time weighing the pros and cons? If so, let it go. 14. If I had to downsize to a much smaller house, would this go with me? If not, let it go. 15. Does this have any historical or potential financial value (e.g., an item passed down for several generations)? If not, let it go.

Sergio Torres explains the difference between the traditional Western epistemology and the emerging epistemology in the following way: The traditional way of knowing considers the truth as the conformity of the mind to a given object, a part of Greek influence in the western philosophical tradition. Such a concept of truth only conforms to and legitimizes the world as it now exists. But there is another way of knowing the truth—a dialectical one. In this case, the world is not a static object that the human mind confronts and attempts to understand; rather, the world is an unfinished project being built. Knowledge is not the conformity of the mind to the given, but an immersion in this process of transformation and construction of a new world (in Appiah-Kubi & Torres 1979:5).

the future lay in cultivating the scientist in all of us. If science is an unfinished project, the next stage will be about reconnecting and integrating the rigor of scientific method with the richness of direct experience to produce a science that will serve to connect us to one another, ourselves, and the world.

You only come to know these things in hindsight – when you look back and see the precarious chain of events, happenstance, and good fortune that led to wherever you are now. Before you reach that point, you have no way of predicting which idea will make a difference and which will die on the vine. That’s why you record them all. No matter how random, how small, how half-baked, how unfinished it may be; if you have a thought, record it right away.

Aside from offering therapeutic comfort and therapeutic insight, therapy also becomes a performative practice where patients actively reflect on their own power and their relationship to the ongoing project of an unfinished democracy.

What Ibarra calls the “plan-and-implement” model—the idea that we should first make a long-term plan and execute without deviation, as opposed to the “test-and-learn” model—is entrenched in depictions of geniuses. Popular lore holds that the sculptor Michelangelo would see a full figure in a block of marble before he ever touched it, and simply chip away the excess stone to free the figure inside. It is an exquisitely beautiful image. It just isn’t true. Art historian William Wallace showed that Michelangelo was actually a test-and-learn all-star. He constantly changed his mind and altered his sculptural plans as he worked. He left three-fifths of his sculptures unfinished, each time moving on to something more promising. The first line of Wallace’s analysis: “Michelangelo did not expound a theory of art.” He tried, then went from there. He was a sculptor, painter, master architect, and made engineering designs for fortifications in Florence. In his late twenties he even pushed visual art aside to spend time writing poems (including one about how much he grew to dislike painting), half of which he left unfinished. Like anyone eager to raise their match quality prospects, Michelangelo learned who he was—and whom he was carving—in practice, not in theory. He started with an idea, tested it, changed it, and readily abandoned it for a better project fit. Michelangelo might have fit well in Silicon Valley; he was a relentless iterator. He worked according to Ibarra’s new aphorism: “I know who I am when I see what I do.

at the behest of L&T’s chairman, M.N. Desai. It was not just altruism that propelled Dhirubhai to acquire a stake in L&T. The project execution capabilities of the engineering major were valuable to RIL. As the single largest shareholder, Dhirubhai replaced Desai as L&T’s chairman and Mukesh and Anil secured board seats.

To live an intuitive life, it helps to clear away everything that prevents you from tuning in to higher vibrations—that is, everything that takes up space or energy but doesn’t contribute to your life. This includes unwanted possessions, unfinished business, excess commitments, negative thinking, judgments, mental projections, resentments from the past, and conflicts in the present.

I’m reminded of the accumulated weight of unfinished projects.

Jerusalem is a city of unfinished projects.

Wise leaders keep reminding themselves that their charges are wired to respond to their words more strongly than they intend—and their privilege can render them clueless to such magnification. When they make offhand comments, write missives with unfinished ideas, or get pissed off, they pause to add, “Please do nothing, I was just thinking out loud.

Her vision was simple,” Wilson wrote later. She wanted a small place with a little kitchen and a bathroom. It would have her favorite things in it, including her cat, her unfinished projects, her Vicks VapoRub, a coffeepot, and cigarettes. There would be people to help her with the things she couldn’t do without help. In the imaginary place, she would be able to lock her door, control her heat, and have her own furniture. No one would make her get up, turn off her favorite soaps, or ruin her clothes.

The only stories that cease to live and breathe after they’ve been told are those that end in perfect, unchanging bliss — “happily ever after” — or with the definitive death of their focal character(s). Most other stories, though, remain unfinished, hanging on into the present, projecting their own spectral future, intangible, problematic, messy. They can never be perfect objects, complete and, in the viewer’s mind, hypostasized. Unceasing bliss or definitive, perfect death are called the classical modes of drama for a reason.

A person’s life is a bounded thing that must end. We will leave this earth with unfinished business. Regardless of the outcome of this writing project, I toyed with it long enough. I reconnoitered the world of fantasy and reality, manipulated ideas into sentences, and linked sentences into paragraphs. I peered into the past, weighed the present, and calculated the ramifications of living to experience the future. I told personal lies searching for universal truths and took ample liberty of the notion of an artistic license to make believe. I kicked the dirt, gazed into the sky, and sat under a tree waiting for inspiration. I examined my capacity for mental stagnation and self-deception. I meditated on the aesthetics of despair. I traveled many mental tributaries, and exhausted myself exploring worlds made of vapor. What I was once certain about I am now full of doubt. What I once doubted I now trust. I wrote the way a drunken man walks, rambling, staggering, jerking, and falling down. I retraced my steps to find my way back to the beginning, and erased my steps to arrive at the finale. Thankfully, the ending is coming, and I am finally ready.

Our habits are literally garments worn by our personalities.”74 Whether they are good habits (remembering other people’s birthdays) or bad habits (smoking), you wear them as a statement about who you are. Knowing you should stop doing something but not doing it changes the way you picture yourself. The same is true when it comes to keeping your commitments. If you make commitments and later break them, you blur others’ vision about the kind of person you are. And when you consistently start projects only to abandon them, you begin to think of yourself as a serial quitter of everything except your bad habits. Even though you might forget a casual promise you made but did not keep, your subconscious mind remembers everything. Then in moments of challenge, you summon up a hunch: I can’t finish this. I can’t finish anything. Never have, never will. While that may be a vague feeling, it likely springs from unfinished business earlier in your life.

That same century witnessed the longest period of psychotic denial of this deep logical problem right at the center of this whole project!

I miss him, but only because there are fifty unfinished projects around our house.

Excessive Shame It is unfortunate that one of the recurring experiences for individuals with ADHD is personal criticism or comments about how they just did something stupid. Often, the people making these comments are important authority figures—parents, teachers, peers, bosses, and, yes, spouses. Unfinished projects (distraction), poor decision making (impulsivity or too much information to process), memory problems, and more mean that people with ADHD often fail to do things as quickly as or in the same way that those without ADHD do them.

Stop your sentence midway through. Ernest Hemingway published fifteen books during his lifetime, and one of his favorite productivity techniques was one I’ve used myself (even to write this book). He often ended a writing session not at the end of a section or paragraph but smack in the middle of a sentence. That sense of incompletion lit a midpoint spark that helped him begin the following day with immediate momentum. One reason the Hemingway technique works is something called the Zeigarnik effect, our tendency to remember unfinished tasks better than finished ones.2 When you’re in the middle of a project, experiment by ending the day partway through a task with a clear next step. It might fuel your

The effects of prolonged procrastination contribute to the chaos as the list of “undone”, “unfinished”, and “unstarted” projects continue to pile on top of each other until it can feel utterly hopeless that we will ever complete them all, let alone keep up with daily tasks that face us every morning.

His unfinished project stared back at Nick from the computer screen, the cursor accusing him with every blink.

Leonardo built an ingenious scaffold in the Hall of Five Hundred that could be raised or folded in the manner of an accordion. This painting was to be his largest and most substantial work. Since he had suffered an almost disastrous experience in fresco painting with The Last Supper, he wanted to apply oil colours on the wall. He began also to experiment with a thick undercoat, which after he applied the colours, the paint began to drip. Trying to dry the painting in a hurry and save whatever he could, he hung large charcoal braziers close to the painting. Only the lower part could be saved in an intact state. But the upper part did not dry fast enough and the colours intermingled. Leonardo then abandoned the project. Michelangelo and Leonardo’s unfinished paintings adorned the same room together for almost a decade (1505-1512). The cartoon of Michelangelo’s painting was cut in pieces by Bartolommeo Bandinelli out of jealousy in 1512. The centrepiece of The Battle of Anghiari was greatly admired and numerous copies were made for decades. In the mid-16th century (1555-1572), the hall was enlarged and restructured by Vasari and his helpers, so that Grand Duke Cosimo I could hold his court in the chamber. During this transformation, several famous, but unfinished works were lost, including The Battle of Cascina by Michelangelo and The Battle of Anghiari by Leonardo.

This was the background for Benn's harsh objections. Versed in the arguments put forward by Philosophical Anthropology, Benn was anything but a concerned humanist; he was not irritated by the denial of man's higher status but by Uexkiill's putative blindness to man's fundamentally problematic nature. This critique of Uexkull (which will resurface time and again) is a kind of speciesism in a minor key that tries to reclaim a special place for humans not as the masters but as the misfits of creation. There are always faint echoes of Kierkegaard: somehow, we are special because we are broken, lost, abandoned, or derelict incomplete beings. (Alternately, "unfinished" humans may be labeled as evolutionary to-do projects that await completion.) Uexkiill's "jovial" theory appears to be devoid of tragedy. There is—to span the extremes of the German pantheon—too much Goethe and too little Nietzsche. Heaping insult upon insult, Benn acknowledged the similarity between Uexkull and Goethe but then added that in Goethe's time this type of harmonious leveling of differences may have been "worthy of a great man," but nowadays it revealed nothing other than the "primary joviality of the biologist and insect specialist.

Then, between two sheets of paper, they discovered a third, left there by accident. Clearly written at the top were the words, 'Copy and circulate'. It was the front page of Résistance, mercifully unfinished. Ordered to explain it, I admitted with a suitable degree of reluctance that it was a copy of a tract exhorting the French people to hoard all their nickel coins. I said I had abandoned the project as I was such a bad typist, but that I had made five copies that I had left on seats in the Métro. All in all, it was a plausible story that would only cost me two or three months in prison. I chuckled inwardly as I thought about the Résistance file, with its four hundred names and addresses, lying quietly hidden — together with copies of all the tracts we had published since September 1940 — under the stair carpet between floors. After asking my permission with great ceremony, my gentleman visitors used my telephone to report back to their chief on the success of their mission. Then they hung up, and invited me to leave with them. It was at this point that I remembered the Roosevelt speech that Léo had given me two days before, which was still in my handbag! I asked permission to go to the toilet, which they granted, though not without first snatching my bag from me and ordering me not to shut the door.

Nothing takes five minutes, Kelly. Nothing.” We’d been here before. In a day or two, I’d follow his eye to the unfinished side of the chest or a feathered edge of Foxy Brown along the top of a baseboard. Busted, I would nod through his blah blah blah about slowing down or what painter’s tape is for. He didn’t understand the way my projects made me tingle with can-do. He couldn’t see that each undertaking I “finished” left me drunk with accomplishment. He’d never be able to appreciate that for a mother, the most elusive, exhilarating buzz was fixing.

More generally, while in any major policy decision there is inevitably some separation between the “visionaries” who initiate the project and the “planners” who implement it, the degree of separation between the two processes was exceptionally large for the Maastricht Treaty.