in the morning i'll be ten feet tall,
solid gold,
not sorry for anything.

leias:

“We had been everywhere. We had really seen nothing. And I catch myself thinking today that our long journey had only defiled with a sinuous trail of slime the lovely, trustful, dreamy, enormous country that by then, in retrospect, was no more to us than a collection of dog-eared maps, ruined tour books, old tires, and her sobs in the night - every night, every night - the moment I feigned sleep.” Lolita, Vladimir Nabokov (1955)



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