lördag 19 juli 2014


"I still don’t know how I made it, didn’t crumble into dust. Somehow I went on, as we all have to go on; stuffed my grief in my pocket like a chunk of black coal and stumbled forward. I carry it still, but over the years the lump has grown smaller, harder, like a diamond."
— The Midwife of Hope River by Patricia Harman

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