And thus it happens that the reader, the closer he comes to the novel’s end, the more he wishes he were back in the summer with which it begins, and finally, instead of following the hero onto the cliffs of suicide, joyfully turns back to that summer, content to stay there forever

And thus it happens that the reader, the closer he comes to the novel's end, the more he wishes he were back in the summer with which it begins, and finally, instead of following the hero onto the cliffs of suicide, joyfully turns back to that summer, content to stay there forever

And thus it happens that the reader, the closer he comes to the novel’s end, the more he wishes he were back in the summer with which it begins, and finally, instead of following the hero onto the cliffs of suicide, joyfully turns back to that summer, content to stay there forever (Franz Kafka, The Penal Colony and Other Stories)

out of sight, out of mind, right? That motto is just atemporary fix—until you’re forced to come face to face with what you’ve been running from. That’s whenthe mental walls you’ve built to hide behind come crashing down in one hard blow

out of sight, out of mind, right? That motto is just atemporary fix—until you’re forced to come face to face with what you’ve been running from. That’s whenthe mental walls you’ve built to hide behind come crashing down in one hard blow

out of sight, out of mind, right? That motto is just atemporary fix—until you’re forced to come face to face with what you’ve been running from. That’s whenthe mental walls you’ve built to hide behind come crashing down in one hard blow (Penelope Ward, Stepbrother Dearest)