"Miracles.. Events with astronomical odds of occurring, like oxygen turning into gold.. I've longer to witness such an event, and yet I neglect that in human coupling.. Millions upon millions of cells compete to create life, for generation after generation until, finally, your mother loves a man.. Edward Blake, the Comedian, a man she has every reason to hate, and out of that contradiction, against unfathomable odds, it's you - only you - that emerged, to distill so specific a form from all that chaos.. It's like turning air into gold.. A miracle.."
Hiç yorum yok:
Yorum Gönder