luis arrieta

This is the first book that I have finished from the re-reading list I compiled a while ago. And this is the book, the one I would take with me to a prolonged quarantine, and the one I’d give to all my friends if I knew they were going

Without us noticing, we have a new ritual. Father and daughter only. Sometimes Sirius comes by and watches us, but he lets us be for the most part. Every evening, after the family has finished dinner, Luna calls me from the stairs, or comes to me with the little blue

I finished reading Surely You’re Joking on the last day of November and it is definitely one of the most amusing, pleasurable, and inspiring books I’ve read. Feynman won the Nobel Prize in 1965 for his contributions in the field of quantum electrodynamics, but along and beyond the

OK. Ishiguro won the Nobel Prize in 2017 and I’m happy to report that I was a bit ahead of the curve. I had already read Never Let Me Go and gifted four copies of the book to people dear to me. Never Let Me Go is definitely high

I picked up this book because it promised to express a bold position not only against religion in general but, given the state of affairs since 9/11, Islam in particular. Sam Harris’s unforgiving appetite for logical rigor and evidence-based reasoning help inform our opinion on terrorism, Islamic fundamentalism,

Marcus Aurelius, the last of the Five Good Emperors, wrote one of the final classical books of stoicism. The Greek title, Ta Eis Heauton, simply means “To Himself”. Someone, somewhere, sometime used  “Meditations” as the title, and it stuck. Meditations is essentially a notebook of the Roman Emperor. It is

Our perception of time is not linear, but logarithmic. It feels as if every new day were shorter than the previous day. Today, at 40, each year passes almost unnoticed and I struggle finding a significant event to stamp on every single year, lest it gets lost in nothingness. Thus,

Yesterday, December 24 at 11:48 at night, I finished reading the third and last volume of Byzantium. It is a story whose melancholy increases as we flip the pages. In this last volume, the Empire is like a bonfire (or a pyre?) whose refulgence is still intense and bright