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“The quiet regrowth of a forest, fertilized only by its own burnt flesh, is what I think of when I think of survival. When we are able to look death in the face and prosper because of it, and not just despite it, we prove that to live is to contradict.” — Belle Townsend
The quiet regrowth of a forest,
fertilized only by its own burnt flesh,
is what I think of
when I think of survival.
When we are able to look death in the face
and prosper because of it, and not just despite it,
we prove that to live is to contradict.