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Vera Phillips: You don't even see me, do you? Dylan! All you've got is stories in your head. Words. And I have to feel real. William... makes me real.
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Dylan Thomas: Not for the proud man apart from the raging moon I write on the spendthrift pages, nor for the towering dead with their nightingales and psalms, but for the lovers, their arms round the griefs of the ages.
Simon Armstrong
Extended Reading
