Norman Lock Quotes
While My Father Was Out Boozing, She'd Read To Me By The Stub Of A Candle, A Thread Of Soot Twisting Upwards From Its Pinched, Meager Flame. By Her Voice Alone, She Could Raise Up The Old Stories From The Bones Of Their Words And--lilting Between Shades Of Comedy And Melodrama--turn The Dreary Space Around Me Into A Stage For My Wildest Imaginings.
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