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"in the end we had pieces of the puzzle, but no matter how we put them together, gaps remained. oddly shaped emptiness mapped by what surrounded them, like countries we couldn't name. what lingered after them was not life, but the most trivial list of mundane facts. a clock ticking on the wall, a room dim at noon, the outrageousness of a human being thinking only of herself."

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reading sense and sensibility by jane austen

jan 24 2016 ∞
jan 24 2016 +