From Diane Setterfield's The Thirteenth Tale

People disappear when they die. Their voices, their laughter, the warmth of their breath. Their flesh. Eventually their bones. All living mempry of them ceases. This is both dreadful and natural. Yet for some there is an exception to this annihilation. For in the books they write they continut to exist. We can rediscover them. Their humour, their tone of voice, their moods. Through the written word they can anger you or make you happy. They can comfort you. They can perplex you. They can alter you. All this, even though they are dead. Like flies in amber, like corpses frozen in ice, that which according to the laws of nature should pass away is, by the miracle of ink on paper, preserved. It is a kind of magic.

--Diane Setterfield



Sunday, December 4, 2011

Quigley Quibbler November 2011 - will flesh it out whenever I get around to these blog posts.

Camping with Jacob's and friends
Yard work at Jane's (ODD JOBS FOR TRIP)
Babysitting at Fielding's
Organizing at Bucheli's
AMY WEDDING RECEPTION!
Book Group at our place
Twilight
Bountiful Baskest!!
Music practice
Dad in town - River walk
Birthday! - and awesome gifts
Cozy night with Jacob's
Crafting presents
My Sweet Visiting Teacher Made me this DELICIOUS lemon  cake. 

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