home | October 27th, 2009
Take your hand from your wrist, I tell them, your blood pressure is not abnormal, you are not on the verge of disaster. Listen to this greater pulse, the lowing of cattle and the beating of wings against the wind. Can you hear? The pulse will be there too in the place where you live, I say to them. Nothing is exempt from the service of Nature. Perhaps the drains and cables between buildings are like stethoscopes, and you may hear the heartbeat of the city if you listen.
— Sarah Hall, How to Paint a Dead Man
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