“I didn’t know anyone could see it,” Samuel said.  “You know, Lee, I think of my life as a kind of music, not always good music but still having form and melody.  And my life has not been a full orchestra for a long time now.  A single note only – and that note unchanging sorrow.  I’m not alone in my attitude, Lee.  It seems to me that too many of us conceive of a life as ending in defeat.”

John Steinbeck, East of Eden (1952, Chapter 24)

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