Before unearthing this letter, I had questioned myself about the ways in which a book can be infinite. I could think of nothing other than a cyclic volume, a circular one. A book whose last page was identical with the first, a book which had the possibility of continuing indefinitely.

había amado, amaba todavía, y albergaba dentro de sí todo el sufrimiento que un temperamento apasionado y un espíritu altivo puedan conocer ante el desen­gaño de una preciada aunque absurda ilusión, unido a una fuerte sensación de injusticia.

Persistence is to the character of man as carbon is to steel.

Almost, not quite,I wish you all a long and happy Life

Written By Alice Sebold

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