"We have come to the wrong star. That is what make life at once so splendid and so strange. We are in the wrong world... The true happiness is that we don't fit. We come from somewhere else. We have lost our way."
A sketch of G.K. Chesterton, whose birthday is this week. One of the most joyous writers I've ever read, who apparently reserved all his joy for the page and left none for the camera. The photo this sketch is from comes as close as any other. And that's fine. If you haven't read him, check out The Man Who Was Thursday, or Tremendous Trifles, or any of the Father Brown stories to get a taste of what I mean.
