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“They’re always inventing new ways not to be aware of the canyon between them, but it’s a canyon of tiny distances: a sentence or a silence here, a closing or an opening of space there, a moment of difficult truth or of difficult generosity. That’s all. They’re always at the threshold.” “Of paradise?” the angel asked, watching the humans reach for each other yet again. “Of peace,” God said, turning the page of a book without edges. “They wouldn’t be so restless if they weren’t so close.” - www.newyorker.com
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synchronize
marriage