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Quote by Susan Shrestha

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Susan Shrestha

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“We make it back outside for my favourite time of day, golden hour swarming our senses. Pink intersperses with the blue and grey of the sky, like a beautiful storm is coming. What's left of the sun softly punches our faces, discouraging sobriety. A young girl passes us, hand in hand with her mother, the other hand an open palm, feeling for the light in the world. Del turns to me, the black of her eyes full and open.”

“The melancholy of the antique world seems to me more profound than that of the moderns, all of whom more or less imply that beyond the dark void lies immortality. But for the ancients that ‘black hole’ is infinity itself; their dreams loom and vanish against a background of immutable ebony. No crying out, no convulsions—nothing but the fixity of the pensive gaze. With the gods gone, and Christ not yet come, there was a unique moment, from Cicero to Marcus Aurelius, when man stood alone. Nowhere else do I find that particular grandeur.”

“While we are standing under the sky, screaming in thunder and crying in floodwater, we realize we have become victims of environmental disarray, preventing us from relishing the bright star backdrop and hearing the seasons' enchanting rhythm or following the quiet birds' migration and experiencing the stillness of an ancient tree. (“Rain Man - With a sky out of control“)”