Monday, June 10, 2013

But a chance tone of colour in a room or a morning sky, 

a particular perfume that you had once loved and that brings subtle memories with it, 

a line from a forgotten poem that you had come across again, 

a cadence from a piece of music that you had ceased to play—

 I tell you, Dorian, that it is on things like these that our lives depend.

 Oscar Wilde 


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