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“. . . now, at this moment, in this soft green twilight, this soft green Sunday evening, when the heart of the world seemed to lie beating in the palm of his hand, he sat in that huge house upstairs terrified that he would never live.” ~ Andrew Holleran, from Dancer from the Dance
“Days pass here, weeks slip away, and even when it isn’t, it seems to be Sunday, irreal, subdued, the queer, slowed-down feeling of late afternoon spreading through the hours of an entire day…