I shall be a clinger to the outsides of words all my life. But my body passes vagrant as a bird’s shadow. I should be transient as the shadow on the meadow, soon fading, soon darkening and dying there where it meets the wood.
Virginia Woolf,The Waves.
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    I shall be a clinger to the outsides of words all my life. But my body passes vagrant as a bird’s shadow. I should be...
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