Josh Ang

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Proximity, impossibility, renunciation. That does make for an enduring kind of love. And I believe that would be my grandmother’s choice, that self-glorifying dangerous self-denying passion, never satisfied, never risked, to last a lifetime. Not admitted to, either, except perhaps that one time, one or two times, under circumstances of great stress. We must never speak of this again.
Something I've Been Meaning to Tell You: Winner of the Nobel Prize in Literature
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