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“But now that day had broken, nothing had changed, no one had rescued them, and the possibility that that was how it would be the whole day, whole night, and all the other days, and all the other nights, had started to eat away at him right there, in his chest, at that blue place where tears are born and hope dies.” — Grégoire Courtois
But now that day had broken, nothing had changed, no one had rescued them, and the possibility that that was how it would be the whole day, whole night, and all the other days, and all the other nights, had started to eat away at him right there, in his chest, at that blue place where tears are born and hope dies.