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The continuous narrative of existence is a lie. There is no continuous narrative, there are lit-up moments, and the rest is dark.

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The light was as intense as a love affair. I was blinded, delighted, not just because it was warm and wonderful, but because nature measures nothing. ...more

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There was a man here, lashed himself to a spar as his ship went down, and for seven days and seven nights he was on the sea, and what kept him alive w...more