"She and Sally bought all these things, she can remember every transaction, but she feels now that they are arbitrary, the spigot and the counter and the pots, the white dishes. They are only choices, only thing and then another, yes or no, and she sees how easily she could slip out of this life - these empty and arbitrary comforts."
- 'The Hours' by Michael Cunningham
One man's delirium revisited
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