[ID: A screencap from Taskmaster. Ivo Graham kneels on a metal walkway overhanging a canal, with a huge rubber pineapple floating nearby. Fishing around in the water with a piece of string, he says, “Where’s my chunks?” End ID.]
“How many thousands have I spent on perfume and alcohol, cigarettes and Turkish baths, disappointing trips and third-class movies; how many months in silent bars or parks, expecting, in a chair with a book not reading, or waiting in line, waiting in line? Who will tell me it’s a loss when I know life must be for pleasure? The parks were balanced by museums, the baths by oceans, bars by composition, and the dreaming chair by books finished. Nothing is waste that makes a memory.”
— Ned Rorem, The Paris Diary & The New York Diary: 1951-1961
![taskmastercaps:
“[ID: A screencap from Taskmaster. Ivo Graham kneels on a metal walkway overhanging a canal, with a huge rubber pineapple floating nearby. Fishing around in the water with a piece of string, he says, “Where’s my chunks?” End ID.]
”](https://64.media.tumblr.com/a0e5fade8e87522b302578a052a824da/5e1c58975ea2a182-9f/s500x750/b7adc273cbf3a2224985c5b6b05795d5691943f3.png)
