“We have all eaten of the fruit of life, not knowing we have swallowed its death-seeds. The seeds sprout into weeds tall as trees, choking. Smothered or not by distraction or belief, this we share: death as a shared feast, suffering as our communal drink.”
Quote by Sondra Charbadze
Work
The Sea Once Swallowed Me: A Memoir of Love, Solitude, and the Limits of Language
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