"I think it is all a matter of love the more you love a memory the stronger and stranger it becomes

For some reason, I kept seeing it—it trembled and silkily glowed on my damp retina—a radiant child of twelve, sitting on a threshold, "pinging" pebbles at an empty can.
~ Vladimir Nabokov ~












For some reason, I kept seeing it—it trembled and silkily glowed on my damp retina—a radiant child o...
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