“I look out my window each day. I look out my window at people who live and breathe. JIM BUTCHER.

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What is it he there beholds that so freezes and abashes his ambitious heart? What is it, profound behind the outward windows of each one of you, beneath touch even of your own suspecting, drawn tightly back at bay against the backward wall and blackness of its prison cave.

(James Agee)

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