A blog about random musings, stray visits and earnest thoughts. An attempt on my part to treasure some precious memories before they fade.
As someone remarked “Even a dull life could make a worthwhile reading,
provided the writer paid sufficient attention to detail.”
There is an hour of the afternoon when the plain is on the verge of saying something. It never says, or perhaps it says it infinitely, or perhaps we do not understand it, or we understand it and it is untranslatable as music.
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