“Where does music go when it’s not playing?—she asked herself. And disarmed she would answer: May they make a harp out of my nerves when I die.”
― Near to the Wild Heart
― Near to the Wild Heart
“I must not forget, I thought, that I have been happy, that I am being happier than one can be. But I forgot, I’ve always forgotten.”
― Near to the Wild Heart
― Near to the Wild Heart
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