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we are here to inscribe ourselves on the universe, and it is not inappropriate to remind ourselves of this when blank slates are given us.
She often felt a nostalgia for the present, aware that her life was passing by faster than she could properly take it in.
One had impressions of other people, nothing more. Never to hear them think, only to hear what they said;
… It was hard for her not to feel that a person loving her was making a big mistake. Because she knew herself better than they did, so knew their love was given in error.
