Because we don't know when we will die, we get to think of life as
an inexhaustible well, yet everything happens only a certain number of
times, and a very small number, really. how many more times will you
remember a certain afternoon of your childhood, some afternoon that's so
deeply a part of your being that you can't even conceive of your life
without it? perhaps four or five times more, perhaps not even that. how
many more times will you watch the full moon rise? perhaps twenty. and
yet it all seems limitless.
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