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...she walked in through the out door.
I expect to make rather a good death. The essence of death is loneliness, and I have had plenty of practice at this.
T. H. White, Diary 1960

Neglect and abandonment, overwhelming, fathomless.
That old feeling, so familiar since earliest childhood, washes away
the fragile sand castles I built and rebuild again and again.

Horace Vernet - The Maiden's Lament.jpg

To seek fire & warmth, only to find
the cold muddy sea, dragging at your clothes.


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