Every word I speak robs me of a thousand others, and every line I write means giving up another.
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Every word I speak robs me of a thousand others, and every line I write means giving up another.
“Long cold fingeres / dipped in blue roses
pry open the red world.
A motionless aeroplane / goes shrieking over / the oceans of Europe.”
Anne Carson | “The Fall of Rome: A Traveller’s Guide”