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The Hellbound Heart
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by Clive Barker (Goodreads Author)
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Book cover for Flight to Arras
“The heat of battle” is a familiar phrase; the heat of living is a truer one.
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Lloyd Jones
“I was eleven when my father left, so neither of us really knew our fathers. I’d met mine of course, but then I only knew my dad as a child knows a parent, as a sort of crude outline filled in with one or two colors. I’d never seen my father scared or cry. I’d never heard him admit to any wrongdoing. I have no idea what he dreamed of. And once I’d seen a smile pinned to one cheek and darkness to the other when my mum had yelled at him. Now he was gone, and I was left with just an impression—one of male warmth, big arms, and loud laughter.”
Lloyd Jones, Mister Pip

“The stories of young men searching for their fathers are the stories of young men who through their adventures father themselves by doing for themselves what they hoped a father would do for them. ("Anthropology: What Is Lost In Rotation")”
William S. Wilson, Why I Don't Write Like Franz Kafka

Nicole Krauss
“Perhaps that is what it means to be a father-to teach your child to live without you.”
Nicole Krauss, The History of Love

Émile Gaboriau
“A father is the one friend upon whom we can always rely. In the hour of need, when all else fails, we remember him upon whose knees we sat when children, and who soothed our sorrows; and even though he may be unable to assist us, his mere presence serves to comfort and strengthen us.”
Émile Gaboriau, File No. 113

Elizabeth Berg
“I wondered what my father had looked like that day, how he had felt, marrying the lively and beautiful girl who was my mother. I wondered what his life was like now. Did he ever think of us? I wanted to hate him, but I couldn't; I didn't know him well enough. Instead, I wondered about him occasionally, with a confused kind of longing. There was a place inside me carved out for him; I didn't want it to be there, but it was. Once, at the hardware store, Brooks had shown me how to use a drill. I'd made a tiny hole that went deep. The place for my father was like that.”
Elizabeth Berg, We Are All Welcome Here

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