George Saunders

“None of it was real; nothing was real. Everything was real; inconceivably real, infinitely dear. These and all things started as nothing, latent within a vast energy-broth, but then we named them, and loved them, and, in this way, brought them forth. And now must lose them. I”

George Saunders, Lincoln in the Bardo
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Lincoln in the Bardo Lincoln in the Bardo by George Saunders
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