Devotion
Patti Smith
My 4 highlights
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I had also kept a loosely formed travel diary: bits of poems, notes, and observations for no particular reason save to write.
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Twirling about giddily, she experienced the melancholy luxury of solitary joy.
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My father had a sense of impending danger. My mother had no such sense, she saw only good in people.
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He had traveled extensively though not in leisurely fashion.