- Emily Dickinson
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A World Slipping Beneath the Waves
Drowning There is a particular kind of panic that sets in when you’re trapped in gridlock and you can’t escape. I was marooned in Midtown At...
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Here I sit - nursing a scotch, looking out at the pink and orange reflection of the sunset on the mountain—pondering my solitary act of civi... -
“We shall not cease from exploration, and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first t... -
The Parable, Redacted A long time ago, a grasshopper was hopping about, chirping and singing. A wretched thing, laboring away in the heat, a...
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