Yes, I'm writing and anger and resentment, and I'm ashamed of it, because I no longer know, nor do I care, whether my words are fair or not, whether I'm judging the innocent or whether the fury and the pain that burn me to the core or also blinding me. During these past months I've learned to hate, and it terrifies me to think that I'll die with this bitterness in my heart.
( Carlos Ruiz Zafón )
[ The Labyrinth of the Spirits ]
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