I was looking through photographs from when I went to Ontario to meet this boy, and there is one photograph of that sentence scribbled down. I used to lie on his bed and read bits of this book by Jeanette Winterson when he wasn't around. I think you would like her words a lot and should read them if you haven't / don't already. ♥
You are the second/third? person that has recommended Ms. Winterson to me. I've read snippets of her work posted in literaryquotes and the bio pages of my LJ friends, but never an entire text. I must do this soon. It's like prophecy.
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YES.
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