When I see an old thing, it is as though it is dimly shining, like a brass candlestick in candlelight. My mind curves downwards at the edges, a graceful sagging. It tries to penetrate the object, to find out its history. When I see something old, it feels as though my heart and my mind are trying to join together, to connect, to experience the age as one organ.
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| - When I see an old thing, it is as though it is dimly shining, like a brass candlestick in candlelight. My mind curves downwards at the edges, a graceful sagging. It tries to penetrate the object, to find out its history. When I see something old, it feels as though my heart and my mind are trying to join together, to connect, to experience the age as one organ.
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| - When I see an old thing, it is as though it is dimly shining, like a brass candlestick in candlelight. My mind curves downwards at the edges, a graceful sagging. It tries to penetrate the object, to find out its history. When I see something old, it feels as though my heart and my mind are trying to join together, to connect, to experience the age as one organ.
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