What a wee little part of a person’s life are his acts and his word’s! His real life is led in his head, and is known to none but himself. All day long, the mill of his brain is grinding, and his thoughts, not those other things, are his history. These are his life, and they are not written, and cannot be written. Everyday would make a whole book of 80,000 words ― 365 books a year. Biographies are but the clothes and buttons of the man ― the biography of the man himself cannot be written.- Mark Twain
Had Mark Twain been still around, he would have assumed that blogging is an activity dear to nudists and equally dear to people who are perpetually bottomed up.
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