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20 pages
Published January 8, 2021
“Love doesn’t belong to any of us—it exists elsewhere, complete, from beginning to end. We simply have the privilege of coming into contact with it every once in a while.”
“Marie’s proof of love was a sentimental cliché. But she had arrived at it herself. To give shape to her unformulated thoughts was an arduous task as if she were performing surgery on her own body, grasping what lay whirling around her throat, cutting and sewing them into words.”
To give shape to her unformulated thoughts was an arduous task, as if Marie were performing surgery on her own body, grasping what lay whirling around her throat, cutting and sewing them into words.