His mind, never raised above mould, was now all but mouldered away.
His mind, never raised above mould, was now all but mouldered away.
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“The books that you really love give the sense, when you first open them, of having been there. It is a creation, almost like a chamber in the memory. Places that one has never been to, things that one has never seen or heard, but their fitness is so sound that you’ve been there somehow.”
John Cheever