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"But books were different. They had lots of blanks. Blanks between words and even between lines. I could squeeze myself in there and sit, or walk, or scribble down my thoughts. It didn't matter if I had no idea what the words meant."

"But books are quiet. They remain dead silent until somebody flips open a page. Only then do they spill out their stories, calmly and thoroughly, just enough at a time for me to handle."

"What does love mean?" "To discover beauty."

"I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to judge you, I just wanted to know your purpose. Your purpose for running."

Dora let out a sigh. "To me, that's like being asked, Why do you live? Do you live for any purpose? Let's be honest, we just live because we're alive."

"Maybe understanding a language is like understanding the expressions and emotions of other people."

"Old books seem all right, though. They have a richer scent that's more alive. Like how autumn leaves smell."

"Dora found beauty in everything. She found nature's magnificent work and incredible symmetry in a turtle's carapace, or a stork's egg, or an autumn reed from a swamp. How wonderful, she would often say. I understood the meaning of the word, but I could never feel the splendor it carried."

- Sohn Won-pyung, Almond

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