Anthony Doerr: All the light we cannot see

As I have mentioned before, this is what great literature does. It changes you and it stays with you forever. Even in the maelstroms of my very busy life, part of me is still sitting silently with Marie-Laure on the secret beach feeling the water slip back and forth over my bare feet, touching the world she will never see. Part of me still cries for the loss of the world, for the cruelty and the people pushed by fate to live in fear and longing.

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There’s this thing about life. Sometimes it’s overwhelming, sometimes underwhelming. Either way, you just keep going because there’s nothing else to do. When I was younger, a teenager, I used…

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