“One day I seemed to shut a door
between me and all publishers' addresses and book lists. I said to
myself, Now I can write. Now I can make myself a vase like that which
the old Roman kept at his bedside and wore the rim slowly away with
kissing. So I, who had never had a sister and was fated to lose my
daughter in infancy, set out to make myself a beautiful and tragic
little girl.”
--William Faulkner
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