Confession time


My literary tastes favour non-fiction. Which means I do not read Norman Lebrecht's blog. But a regular reader sent me a link to the latest Slipped Disc. It reminded me of the following story.

A French Catholic priest in his nineties was asked what, in seven decades of listening to confession, he had learnt about the human heart. Nothing, he at first replied. Then, having reflected, he vouchsafed, "There is one thing: fundamentally, there are no grown ups."

Story comes from Going Buddhist by Peter J Conradi. If you share my literary tastes you will enjoy it. Winter scene in France is (c) On An Overgrown Path 2010. Report broken links, missing images and errors to - overgrownpath at hotmail dot co dot uk Also on Facebook and Twitter
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Comments

Pliable said…
David Cavlovic commented via Facebook -

Lebrechtian fiction! LMAO!

http://www.facebook.com/overgrownpath#!/overgrownpath/posts/122605951136257?notif_t=share_comment
Pliable said…
Via Twitter -

The first two sentences of this @overgrownpath blog entry have made my day - brilliant http://is.gd/i4bXl

http://twitter.com/wheresrunnicles/status/10110143056322560
Civic Center said…
Also don't read Mr. Lebrecht but followed your link. The mesmerizing self-regard and childish who's signing more books, me or Alex, was unintentionally hilarious. "There are no grown ups" indeed.

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