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archisoulspace

““The trouble is, I am not at peace with myself; I am not always “something,” and if for once I am “something,” I pay for it by “being nothing” for months on end.””

— Franz Kafka, from Letters To Felice

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“Those innocent eyes slit my soul up like a razor.”

— Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Brothers Karamazov.

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