I'd made myself believe something that wasn't true. I'd made myself believe that I was fine and happy and fulfilled on my own without the love of anyone else. Being in love was like China: you knew it was there, and no doubt it was very interesting, and some people went there, but I never would. I'd spend all my life without ever going to China, but it wouldn't matter, because there was all the rest of the world to visit.
(..)
I thought: I want to go to China. It's full of treasures and strangeness and mystery and joy. (..) For the first time ever I felt I was doing something with all of my nature and not only a part of it.
//Philip Pullman, The Amber Spyglass
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let it always be known that i was who i am
cukursēne (saccharomyces) wrote on October 13th, 2013 at 05:00 pm
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