Book:    Carthage
Viewed: 111 - Published at: 9 years ago

I have no inner life. I have no 'intimate' life. I am just what I-what to do. I move from one habitation to another like one of those-is it herit crabs? Taking up residence in others shells.
{…}
Others' shells are fine. You come, and then you go. They're gone

( Joyce Carol Oates )
[ Carthage ]
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