"Heroic fiction had plenty of manly handclasps in it...but it had never gone into how you retrieved your hand afterwards, and whether there were any relevant squeezes or other maneuvers."
Non importa con quanto scrupolo seguirai le indicazioni: avrai sempre l'impressione di aver perso qualcosa, la sensazione spaventosa sprofondata sotto la tua pelle di non aver vissuto tutto. C'รจ quel sentimento di caduta nel cuore per essere andato troppo in fretta nei momenti in cui avresti dovuto fare attenzione.
Then in my mind's eye I see the bronze statue of the college Founder, the cold Father symbol, his hands outstretched in the breathtaking gesture of lifting a veil that flutters in hard, metallic folds above the face of a kneeling slave; and I am standing puzzled, unable to decide whether I am witnessing a revelation or a more efficient blinding.
You ache with the need to convince yourself that you do exist in the real world, that you're a part of all of the sound and anguish, and you strike out with your fists, you curse and you swear to make them recognize you.
As I stare at it, I can feel little invisible strings,silently tugging me toward it. I have to touch it. I have to wear it. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
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