“Life is a question of nerves, and fibres, and slowly built-up cells in which thought hides itself and passion has its dreams.
You may fancy yourself safe and think yourself strong. But a chance tone of colour in a room or a morning sky, a particular
perfume that you had once loved and that brings subtle memories with it, a line from a forgotten poem that you had come
across again, a cadence from a piece of music that you had ceased to play...
I tell you, that it is on things like these that our lives depend. ”
Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray, 1890
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