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"But my doubt is everywhere, Ma. Even when I know something to be as true as bone I fear the knowlegde will dissolve, will not, despite my writing, stay real. I'm breaking us apart so that I might carry us somewhere — where, exactly, I'm not sure."

"Who will be lost in the story we tell ourselves? [...] To open a mouth, in speech, is to leave only the bones, which remain untold. It is a beautiful country because you are still breathing."

esta puta locura de libro......