“some people go to priests; others to poetry; i to my friends, i to my own heart, i to seek among phrases and fragments something unbroken— i to whom there is not beauty enough in moon or tree; to whom the touch of one person with another is all, yet who cannot grasp even that, who am so imperfect, so weak, so unspeakably lonely.”
— Jan 07, 2025 08:16AM
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