“The lies are as effortless as the truth, and I am no longer certain which are which. It is so easy to lose myself in the twisted boughs and broken groves of my labyrinth mind. There is too much nonsense, too many seeds floating into the desert, drifting languidly on a too-warm wind, too many tides waiting for a moon that long ago escaped from orbit and hurled itself into the sun.”
Book:Sand into Glass