Monday, August 26, 2013

Happiness, for once, has come unearned. Without disease, without lies, without a plan. It feels like a miracle, and it is purer than anything I’ve ever felt.  Sorrow  binds —  at once lending more compassion than can be explained and  more passion than is fathomable. It is measured in sighs and weighted in reciprocity.  

“All I ever wanted was a world without maps.”   

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