“Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings.”
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“I was trying to drown my sorrows,” I explained, looking down into the bottom of my glass, “but my sorrows learned to swim.”
― Winter Jacket
― Winter Jacket
Sylvia’s 2025 Year in Books
Take a look at Sylvia’s Year in Books, including some fun facts about their reading.
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