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…she sat down there and wept, the doctor’s wife came to sit beside her, and told her, Don’t cry, what else could she say, what meaning do tears have when the world has lost all meaning, In the girl’s room on the chest of drawers stood the glass vase with the withered flowers, the water had evaporated, it was there that her blind hands directed themselves, her fingers brushed against the dead petals, how fragile life is when it is abandoned.
— José Saramago, Blindness (248)
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