'...changing the form of one's mission's almost as difficult as changing the shape of one's nose:
they are, each, in the middle of one's face and one's character - one has to begin too far back.'
― Henry James. The Portrait of a Lady.
Tuesday, August 27, 2013
Heart
What is this strange thing that our human hearts are capable of? That we can feel it plummet to the depths of our shoes, beat faster with anticipation, flush us red with the heat of the moment, beating every beat for that which exists outside of us - another beat, another rhythm, another person. That we can feel the synchrony of our lives as it speeds up and slow down, and races after - another beating heart.
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