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Violence does not always take visible form, and not all wounds gush blood.
That’s what the world is, after all: an endless battle of contrasting memories.”
like the Tibetan Wheel of the Passions. As the wheel turns, the values and feelings on the outer rim rise and fall, shining or sinking into
darkness. But true love stays fastened to the axle and doesn’t move.”
an infinite agglomeration of variously shaped microcosms.
all happiness is alike, but each pain is painful in its own way.