layers of unsaid things

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I look back over the years and see myself as I used to be, frozen in former times like a figure in a series of vignettes.  I see myself… All of these images, all of those memories, like the forged links of a chain, stretch back into the darkness.  They should be put away, but the past is not so easily denied.  Things left unfinished, things left unsaid, they all, in the end, come back to haunt us.  For this is the world, and the echo of worlds.

Dark Hallow

John Connolly

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