Nobody loves me but my mother, and she could be jivin’, too.
Nobody loves me but my mother, and she could be jivin’, too.
“Somewhere in all these boundless, compounding, swelling canyons of imprinted paper, encoded in the millions of tons of loblolly pine fiber, there must be a few words of truth, a page, a paragraph that could break the spell of fulfillment and bring back danger, need, and death.”
Richard Powers | The Overstory