Talk not with scorn of Authors- it was the chattering of the Geese that saved the Capitol. Coleridge
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Wednesday, February 12, 2014
The Unicorn by Iris Murdoch
I lived in your gaze like a false God. But it is the punishment of a false God to become unreal. I have become unreal. You have made me unreal by thinking about me so much. You made me into an object of contemplation. Just like this landscape. I have made it unreal endlessly looking at it instead of entering it.
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