Lea Turner

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make eye contact with them both and I can’t look away. Like a mouse mesmerized by a cobra, I am utterly focused on the truth right before me. There is no unknowing now that I know. To ignore what is right before me is to choose ignorance; to pretend the cobra isn’t real is to choose death. I want to choose life. So I choose knowing. I choose truth.
It Wasn't Roaring, It Was Weeping: Interpreting the Language of Our Fathers Without Repeating Their Stories
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