"The brain had its own food on which it battened, and the imagination,made grotesque by terror, twisted and distorted as a living thing by pain,danced ...
There is a luxury in self-reproach. When we blame ourselves, we feel that no one else has a right to blame us. It is the confession, not the priest, that gives us absolution.
Photo by Ákos Szabó
Photo by Ian Turnell
There is a luxury in self-reproach. When we blame ourselves, we feel that no one else has a right to...
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