In an age of infinite content, the most powerful filter for quality is time (the Lindy effect). Prioritizing books, art, and ideas that have remained relevant for centuries ensures you are consuming profound, time-tested wisdom rather than transient trends, optimizing your 'mental diet' for depth.

True learning requires "transcendent thinking"—the natural drive to find deeper meaning beyond surface details. This involves grappling with a subject's history, hidden intentions, values, and alternative future possibilities, connecting concrete information to bigger ideas and stories.

Contrary to being escapist, the best fantasy literature, from Tolkien to L'Engle, uses imaginary worlds to explore complex real-world issues like war, environmentalism, and social conformity. This fictional distance allows authors to make profound statements and challenge readers' assumptions without being preachy.

Most books are 'dead' archives of past knowledge, like digesting old food. An 'alive' book channels the author's present, living transformation onto the page. This imbues the work with a dynamic life force of its own, capable of creating profound, real-time change in the reader.

Poetry is not everyday language, but a ritualistic form that uses sound and resonance to bypass the intellect and connect with our deeper consciousness. It functions as a ceremony, compelling us to pay attention to history and our shared humanity in a more profound way.

Mircea Eliade's work suggests archaic societies didn't see time as a linear progression but as a repeatable cycle. Through annual rituals that re-enacted the world's creation, they could symbolically erase the past year's failings and 'begin anew,' connecting with a sacred, timeless reality.

History isn't a distant, abstract concept. By framing it in terms of generations ('Seven generations can live under one roof'), historical events like the forced removal of her people become a close, personal reality that shapes present identity and understanding, making history feel tangible.

An ancient tablet recounting the flood story omits phrases like "he said," which are standard in later texts. This suggests it was a script for a live narrator performing different character voices, capturing literature at the exact moment it was transitioning from oral performance to written text.

Unlike watching a movie as an observer, reading makes you embody the character, lighting up the brain as if you're living their experiences. This unique power to generate deep empathy is why books face such intense banning efforts from those who want to control who children empathize with.