The Last One Who Wasn’t a Rabbit ↗︎
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You devoured my parents, relatives, and close friends. Give them back to me. But who are “you”?
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You devoured my parents, relatives, and close friends. Give them back to me. But who are “you”?
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“I can only write, read, and leave it to be read. That is the risk of writing.”
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To put it more plainly, it wasn't a style he particularly liked. But what made him hesitate was that he thought the poem was quite good within its own style. "Solid, patient," he said.
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An otherwise ordinary jar, because of a change in its position, became the visual centre, thereby changing the order of the entire space. This was also, in fact, a change in ideas and in the order of the inner world.
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"The claim by some critics that her immense output is seen as lack of editing is absurd, one is unlikely to ever find a superfluous word in any of Oates's stories."
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The apartment we rent is in the second row of buildings by the sea. Every morning, standing at the kitchen balcony's glass door, my gaze passes through the gap between two buildings in the front row, taking in the vast expanse of azure sea.
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