“It passes away like the end of a day, like a toddler’s first goldfish, like a leaf in the autumn, like grandparents, like fruit flies, like memories, like a flower that’s been picked, like childhood and youth, like Ozymandias, like a worm that gets eaten by a bird that gets caught by a cat that gets hit by a car, like starving children across the world, like everything. The days weave together, a million tiny moments that I despise or savour or simply notice one at a time as I fall deeper and deeper into silence and into God, which is just another word for Love.”
Book:Wide Open