But words are things, and a small drop of ink, Falling like dew, upon a thought, produces That which makes thousands, perhaps millions, think; – George Gordon, Lord Byron
All those years of marriage, I thought I was studying him, but the entire time he was watching me more carefully, more ardently; like an old Kentucky dowser, stepping across the dry land with a forked branch, waiting for some sign of what lay deep below. The source of me. And all those years, poor man, he got me wrong. — Andrew Sean Greer, The Story of a Marriage
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