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“We love what we love. Reason does not enter into it. In many ways unwise love is the truest love. Anyone can love a thing because. That’s as easy as putting a penny in your pocket. But to love something despite. To know its flaws and love them too. That is rare, and pure, and perfect.”

– Rothfuss, Patrick. (2011) The Wise Mans Fear. New York, NY.  DAW Books.


As one may guess I am an avid reader. My love of books developed early. It began as an escape from a world of over stimulation for an introvert such as I. And developed into a life long romance.

At first it was just the stories that held my attention. But slowly, the craft seduced me. The ways that gifted writers could weave words into something magical enthralled me.

And then there’s the thrill when you read a passage and it resonates with your soul. When a writer has some how been able to capture that which was indescribable to you moments before.

Poets have been trying to capture the essence of love for time immemorial.  It is a concept that defies definition.  And yet…the attempts of a gifted few can be enlightening and inspiring.

Love in it’s many forms makes life worth living.  It’s clichéd but true.  What human beings would do for love, now that is never clichéd, that’s just inspiring.

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