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Books, she has found, are a way to live a thousand lives
Sleep is such a mercy.
Easy to stay on the path when the road is straight and the steps are numbered.
“The vexing thing about time,” he says, “is that it’s never enough. Perhaps a decade too short, perhaps a moment. But a life always ends too soon.”
“Because time is cruel to all, and crueler still to artists. Because vision weakens, and voices wither, and talent fades.”
Were the instants of joy worth the stretches of sorrow? Were the moments of beauty worth the years of pain?
