as a child i loved what can be seen, as a teenager what can be felt, as a man i no longer love anything. and yet how many things i have in my soul, how much inner strength and how many oceans of anger and love crash together and break in this heart so weak so feeble so fallen so weary so exhausted!...
yes i am dying, for is it living when you see your past as so much water that has flowed into the sea, when the present seems a cage, the future a shroud?
-gustave flaubert memoirs of a madman
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