Strange, isn’t it? To have dedicated one’s life to a certain venture, neglecting other aspects of one’s life, only to have that venture, in the end, amount to nothing at all, the products of one’s labors ultimately forgotten?
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Strange, isn’t it? To have dedicated one’s life to a certain venture, neglecting other aspects of one’s life, only to have that venture, in the end, amount to nothing at all, the products of one’s labors ultimately forgotten?
“I’m having the kind of dreams I have when a book is trying to tell me who to be so I can write it… I get up early, wincing away from them, feeling both manic and depressed.”
M. John Harrison